An Adventure to be Determined, Part III
by VAM-Ninja
Summary: The gang is back for the final leg of the journey! With EVEN MORE action, humor, and romance? than ever, there's no telling where this story will end. Yes, you might think the adventure is pretty much determined, but just wait and see...
1. Satchel Made Scones

Aggie: Part three.

Moolie: Read.

Ginny: Wait, you guys-

*roll opening credits*

Chapter One: Satchel Made Scones

"You know, despite the fact that Saruman is a cruel and vicious wH!izard," Merry said, putting emphasis on the 'H', "he does have good taste."

The three sat on the crumbling remains of the walls of Isengard. Saruman's storeroom had proven to be very beneficial and they now sat, pipes in hand, giggling as they devoured a set of salted pork sandwiches.

"I know," agreed Pippin. "Longbottom Leaf is hard to come by." He reached down to the side of the keg he was sitting on, refilling his flagon with mead.

"Hey, guys," Nora slurred. She sat back on a pile of rubble with her feet immersed in the Jell-O. "This stuff is, like, good for your skin or something."

"How much mead have you had?" Merry chuckled.

"Enough," Nora spat.

There was a pause. Then they all exploded with laughter once more.

…

"Keep up, everyone," Gandalf said. "We still have a ways to go to get to Isengard."

"Will Wormtounge be there, Mithrandir?" Éomer asked sourly. "I'd like to punch his filthy face in."

"Why the hostility?" asked Azimah. She was trying to avoid Legolas, who kept attempting to make eye contact.

"He's the sorry git who got me thrown out of Edoras," Éomer growled. "He was the one who poisoned the king's mind and stalked my sister."

"Azimah."

Azimah felt a hand touch her shoulder. She turned to see Legolas riding next to her.

"Do you hear that?" he asked quietly.

"I hear nothing, Master Elf," she responded coldly.

"No, that absurd giggling," he said. Azimah did hear it; however, she chose to ignore him and rode ahead. Legolas watched sadly.

Gimli appeared from behind him and frowned. "Well, that went well."

"Do you hear it, Gimli?" Legolas inquired, changing the subject.

"Now that you mention it, I do," Gimli said. "Oh, and can I drive on the way back?"

"We'll see, Gimli," Legolas responded slowly, fearing the worst.

"DOES ANYONE ELSE HEAR THAT ABSURD GIGGLING?" Gandalf suddenly boomed in a ridiculous manner.

"Yes, I do," Azimah said loud enough for Legolas to hear.

"Obstinate bitch," Legolas whispered.

"It sounds like a gang of rabbits participating in their annual Carrot Hunt, an event so legendary…" Aragorn began, holding a pair of imaginary suspenders and looking up to the sky in a stately fashion.

"Hey look, it's Nora," Azimah said, smiling to herself.

Aragorn continued to look to the sky, his face turning red. "…oh, you mean _that_giggling," he quickly recovered.

Legolas felt a stubby little finger jabbing at his ribs. "Do you smell that?" Gimli inquired.

"I can't smell anything over you," Legolas said.

"It smells of ale…and raspberry gelatin," said Éomer. "Is someone making Jell-O shots?"

"I can't concentrate over that obscene giggling," said Gandalf. He was a little put out at the moment. He had run out of his special beard shampoo the night before and was starting to get split ends.

They rounded a bend, coming upon what seemed to be a giant lake of blue with three, giggling figures sitting on the edge atop a pile of rubble.

"DUDE!"

Azimah's eyes widened. She hopped off her horse, running towards the rubble. Legolas watched enviously as Azimah ran towards a stumbling figure. The stumbling figure grabbed Azimah tightly.

"Get off me!" Azimah yelled, pushing Nora away.

Nora pulled back reluctantly. "I didn't miss you."

"…didn't miss you either," Azimah said tersely.

"I diiiiid!" yelled a voice from the pile of rocks.

The entire group paused to watch as Pippin took a running leap off the rubble into a magnificent belly-flop into the Jell-O.

"Shame on you!" Gimli shook his fist, frowning. "A merry hunt you've led us on, indeed! And here we find you feasting—and shmoking!"

"Welcome, my lords, to Isengard!" Merry said with a slightly tipsy welcoming gesture.

"So how was the- GANDALF YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!" Nora yelled, temporarily going blind.

"Dude, what happened to your beard?" Eomer asked.

Gandalf had such a bad split end situation that his entire beard appeared to be growing in two different directions. Legolas quietly slipped Gandalf his bottle of hair gel.

After greasing his beard into a presentable point, Gandalf turned his horse and trotted into the knee-deep Jell-O. "Come now, we have business to attend to." He called behind him, sniffing.

"Here Nora, you can ride with me," Azimah said in quite an unusually cheerful tone.

Nora looked puzzled. Shrugging it off, she hopped up behind Azimah. "Thanks man, I need to sleep this off." She leaned her head on Azimah's back and began dozing. However, in her hazy slumber, she thought she saw Legolas shooting her an envious look.

"Gandalf…how nice…to see you…again..." Treebeard droned as he skipped towards the group. Éomer stood up at once in his stirrups, pointing.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?"

"Calm down, Captain, it's just an Ent, harmless creatures really."

Éomer took a sweeping view of the wreckage of Isengard around them. "Harmless, my tooshy..." he muttered as he sat back down, eying Treebeard suspiciously.

Treebeard, who had seemed to take no notice of Éomer's outburst, was explaining the situation to Gandalf and Théoden. "…we've apprehended…the wHizard, but…he refuses to….talk…"

"I have something to say!" Aragorn butted in, feeling that he should be in these important talks.

They all paused to look expectantly at him. Aragorn twitched awkwardly. "Uh…uh—look at that!" he cried, pointing to the top of Orthanc. There, a figure stood clad in white with his beard flowing majestically in the wind.

"Saruman." Gandalf addressed his former master.

"Is that gel in your beard, Gandalf?" Saruman yelled, his voice magically amplified to reach them ALL the way to the bottom of the tower.

"So what if it is?" Gandalf shot back.

"Oh Gandalf," Saruman shook his head. "Have you learned nothing since your fashion fiascos in Wizard College? The ladies never dug the gelled beard look."

"So what? Penny did, that is before…" He trailed off. The entire group on the ground leaned in to hear what he mumbled. "Anyway, that's beside the point as to why we're here. Saruman!" he began again. "We need any information you possess in relation to Sauron's next move."

"Over my dead body!" Saruman shouted back.

"Shoot him! He's asking for it." Gimli fervently grumbled.

"With pleasure." Legolas slowly reached behind to his quiver and drew an arrow.

"No." Gandalf whispered dramatically. "We need him alive."

"Wait a minute." Théoden butted in. "Where's Grima?"

"Oh, that sorry bastard?" Saruman yelled. "I wouldn't give my granny's groceries to know where that sorry sack of poo—." Wormtounge leapt from the shadows, driving a knife into Saruman's back. Legolas loosed his arrow instantly. It found its mark in Wormtounge's chest.

The two crumbled in opposite directions, Saruman's body tumbling epic-ly down the side of Orthanc and impaling one on the spikes of a water wheel.

Well that wasn't very productive…" Gandalf muttered into his gelled beard. Pippin's eyes alighted as he spotted something shiny in the Jell-O. Suddenly, he dove head-first into the gelatinous blue raspberry depths.

"Pippin!" Aragorn shouted, reaching down to pull him up by the seat of his pants. Pippin emerged, holding a luminous glass orb, staring at it intently. Gandalf quickly tweeted "OMG!" and stuck his hand out for the orb.

"I'll take that, my lad," he said seriously. Pippin gave a second longing glance back to the glass ball before reluctantly handing it over to the wizard, who promptly covered with his cape. Gandalf gave the hobbit a very suspicious look before turning and leading the group towards Edoras.

...

It was raining and chilly. The fighting had died down as night fell. Fado laid curled in the wicker basket that served as her container until the bird cage was repaired. She curled tighter as a breeze whistled through the wicker basket. She could hear footsteps drawing closer. The basket suddenly began to shake as someone untied the ropes keeping it shut. The lid lifted and Fado looked up curiously to see Private Satchel standing over her with a floral quilt and a kettle of something that smelled delicious. They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment.

"Well..." Fado started. "Don't you look...masculine."

Satchel looked around quickly to make sure no one was watching. "You say one word to the guys and..." he warned.

"My lips are zipped!" Fado said quickly, sitting up in her hamper.

Satchel gave another glance over his shoulder, then sat next to Fado.

"I thought you might be cold," he grumbled sheepishly, handing over the freshly laundered, floral quilt. "I had to use Gain fabric softener, Faramir used the last of the Snuggle."

"Thanks." Fado wrapped the quilt around her, forming a little nest in her basket. "What've you got there?" she asked, nodding towards the kettle.

"Oh." Satchel quickly reached into his manny-pack and pulled out a small cup. "It's Chamomile and Rose Hip tea. Helps with the nerves."

Fado gave Satchel a raised eyebrow that would've made Elrond proud.

"Just drink it, okay?" Satchel said quickly, pushing the cup into her hands. Fado raised the cup to her lips.

"Wait, wait!" Satchel interrupted her. "I made these, too!" He produced a squashed package from the manny-pack. "They're ham and cheese scones. I made them in the shape of flowers."

"Do...do your friends know about this?" Fado asked cautiously.

"No!" Satchel said quickly, clearly embarrassed. "Just...eat them, okay?"

Fado quickly ate the scones, which turned out to be quite tasty.

"Sorry about you and the little dude," Satchel stated awkwardly, trying to make conversation. "He was...cute."

Fado gave Satchel a glance. "If you're into that kind of stuff, I guess."

Satchel's eyes grew wide. "Wait, no! I didn't mean it like..."

Fado just gave a small smile. "He is pretty cute, isn't he?"

Ginny: Why didn't you guys give me a chance to talk?

Aggie: Because, Ginny, we can't understand that accent of yours.

Ginny: We have the same accent!

Moolie: Ginevra, dear, come on. That Korean accent of yours is just way too thick. Now, I can help you work on it but until then, I'm sorry, but no lines for you.

Ginny: You guys!

Aggie: What was that?


	2. We're Single Ladies

Aggie: Moolie, your stupid plant ate all the Oreos!

Ginny: Good, you're getting a bit fat anyway.

Aggie: Am not, I'm a healthy size!

Moolie: Aggie, your laziness is getting outta hand. How about you join some classes at the gym? Like Zumba or something.

Ginny: Here we go.

Chapter Two: We're Single Ladies

"Get up, fartface."

"Mmmmhrnnhrnhn."

"Nora. Nora!"

Nora's eyes opened wide as she felt a hard kick in her side.

"If I have to suffer through this, then so do you," Azimah stated.

"Suffer through what?" Nora said groggily.

"Zumba!" Eowyn cried, coming into the ladies' chambers. She wore a red jumpsuit and had her hair in a quirky side ponytail.

Nora looked at her, disgusted and sleepy-eyed. She then turned to Azimah. "What's going on?"

Azimah just shook her head and handed Nora a Zumba-patterned waterskin. "Come on."

Nora followed Azimah and Eowyn to the Great Hall where the rest of the company had reluctantly gathered.

"Are you guys ready to go!" Eowyn asked enthusiastically.

"No," responded the group in unison.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" she said, leading them happily out the door to their Zumba destination.

Legolas kept trying to get Azimah's attention. However, his efforts became distracted as Aragorn walked by, a pair of black plastic goggles resting across his forehead.

"Nice goggles, Aragorn," Pippin said. "But I'm not sure how they relate to Zumba."

Aragorn laughed at the hobbit. "Oh, my silly Pippin," he said in a condescending tone. "I won't be doing Zumba today. You see, there's a fine tanning salon, 'You-Ca-Tan', right under the dance studio."

Aragorn paused for any possible questions the group might have had. When no one spoke up, he went on. "Yep, I need to work on my tan here. Startin' to fade." He then flexed his biceps in a way he thought was subtle.

Legolas studied him. "You look pretty tan to me."

Aragorn gave a haughty laugh as if he was simply uninterested in answering Legolas's comment; in truth, he couldn't think of a good comeback.

"I don't see why Aragorn gets to skip," Merry said.

Eowyn frowned. "Why doesn't anyone like Zumba?"

...

"But why doesn't anyone like Zumba?" Faramir complained.

"It's not manly!"

"So, where does this Zumba class take place?" asked Fado as she looked around the rampant war zone. "Osgiliath has an ancient underground mall," Satchel answered as he put on his lime green sweatband and matching leg warmers. "That actually why we want to keep this place. It's not the river we're losing. It's the economy."

"And I assume that the men don't enjoy the mandatory classes?" Fado wondered.

"It's not so bad," replied Satchel. "It's a way to keep in shape."

"You only like it because Kelly's the instructor!" Rob the footman yelled.

"Put a sock in it, _Rob_," Satchel yelled back a bit too boisterously. "You want a piece of this?" He proceeded to beat his chest like a monkey. "No, but Kelly might," Rob said before skipping off.

"Come, men, to the underground mall!" Faramir shouted before grabbing his maraca Zumba toning weights. He did a quick toe touch before jumping on top of a well.

"What is he doing?" Fado asked as she tied on her lavender belly-dancing skirt.

"We have to keep the entrance to the underground mall hidden," Satchel explained. "So there's this pole leading down to the entrance. Totally top secret. You're lucky you get to see it."

Fado shrugged, unsure if she really was lucky to witness what was about to take place. But she kept quiet as she watched the men jump down the well one by one, hearing an occasional "Wee!"

Satchel patted her back. "We're up."

"What."

Before Fado had a chance to escape, Satchel picked her up and jumped into the well, holding onto the pole with his free hand.

*cue awful 80s montage music.*

"This place is-" Fado yelled above Bruce Springsteen.

"-MAGICAL?" Faramir yelled from the bottom of the pole. Fado could barely make out his silhouette through the flashing neon lights as they descended into the manufactured fog below.

"No, I was going to say hazardous!" she yelled back.

Satchel and Fado finally reached the bottom of the pole, which apparently stopped in the middle of the Chinese restaurant at the food court. Faramir quickly placed an order before running to Zumba class, his merry men following. Fado, after regaining her eyesight, chased after them.

"Hey, fellas!" came a cheerful voice from the back of the Zumba room. Satchel's eyes lit up.

"How are you, Kelly?" he asked hopefully.

From the back came a short, plump, and pretty woman with neon pink pants. "Are you guys ready to sweat!" she said, tying on her Zumba-patterned bandana around her head.

Satchel smiled a Forever Alone smile, trying not to appear hurt that she hadn't answered his question.

From the men came a few reluctant grumbles as Kelly turned on the first song of the class- "Single Ladies".

"Alright, let's go!" she said as she, along with Faramir and a hopeful Satchel, began to dance their buns off in the front of the classroom. Fado slowly disappeared in a group of stumbling men who couldn't quite follow the beat.

"Are you guys single ladies!" Kelly asked over the music.

"We're single ladies!" Faramir and Satchel yelled happily.

"I can't hear you!" Kelly insisted.

"We're single ladies…" the rest of the men grumbled in unison.

"Alright, we're gonna stretch! So, everyone, stretch to your right leg!" Kelly proceeded to bend gracefully to the right. Satchel, who wasn't very flexible, tried to get Kelly's attention by bending as low as he could. Unfortunately, he lost balance and fell forward into the mirror.

"Oh, are you okay?" Kelly asked as the song ended. She rushed over to Satchel to help him up.

"Thanks for helping me up, Kelly," Satchel said, leaning nonchalantly against the mirror.

"What are friends for?" Kelly replied happily. Forever ASatchel smiled on.

...

Aragorn lay out on his tanning bed, totally at peace. He smiled serenely as catchy Spanish music started to seep through ceiling.

"What the Dickens?" he shouted rather loudly. When he opened the tanning bed, he found that the music was causing the cheap ceiling lights to shake. He put on his flip flops, took off his goggles, and marched his Speedo-d bum up the steps to Zumba.

"What is going on here!" he shouted once he burst into the room. Everything, even the music, stopped. Everyone stared at his leathery, carrot body.

Azimah grimaced. "By the Beard of Zeus…"

Legolas began to cry silent, painful tears. Nora shielded Merry and Pippin's eyes. Pippin stopped her, trying to appear manly in front of his woman. Eowyn fainted. Gandalf began to scream, "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gimli farted.

...

Sam was snoring. Loudly. Frodo sat staring moodily at the Ring. He could hear her screaming still. And if not her, the Ring filled his thoughts. And if not that it was Sam complaining about the state of his trainers or something.

Frodo shakily drew the Ring from the chain, circling it methodically with his finger.

"Wake up, Hobbitses!"

Frodo jumped, shoving the Ring back down his shirt.

"Oh, crap, I slept too long," Sam cried, sitting up.

"Yes. Yes, you did," Frodo responded.

"No need to get snappy, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo silently threw Sam a packet of Lembas bread. Sam munched on it greedily.

"You're thinking about _her_, aren't you?" he asked, spraying crumbs everywhere.

Frodo smiled. "You caught me, Sam."

...

Azimah sat alone in the women's chambers, putting her exercise clothes back in her pack. Her fingers brushed a piece of worn cotton. She quickly fished out the tiny cloth doll and stared at it, smoothing its little yellow dress. Suddenly, the doll slipped through her fingers. Azimah gasped as a wrenching pain seemed to grip her chest.

In a moment, it was gone. Shaking, Azimah picked up the doll and hurriedly hid it deep in her pack.

She walked out of the room as fast as she could, muttering to herself. "Don't think of him. It can't be him."

...

Moolie: Alright, guys, we're heading to the gym!

Ginny: Bye, have fun, don't come back!

Aggie: Ginny, I swear to god if you don't come with us I will-

Moolie: Thaaat's enough! We're on our way, dearies.

*Moolie, Aggie, Carol, and Elephant head towards the door.*

Ginny: Wait a minute… Why is Carol going? How does a potted plant dance?

Carol: Hisssssss!


	3. Tofurkey

Aggie: Zumba kicked my ASS!

Moolie: You quit after 15 minutes.

Aggie: Yeah, well…shut up.

Ginny: Nice.

Donnald: Haroo!

Translation: Quiet, I'm trying to watch my Disney marathon!

Chapter Tres: Tofurkey

"Pickles! Get your pickles here! Adopt a pickle today!"

Azimah's heart stopped. "Oh _no_." She turned to see a portly fellow with a crazy beard, glasses, and shorts.

"Who is it?" Nora asked.

"The pickle man," Azimah whispered harshly. Noticing the serious tone in Azimah's voice, Nora asked no more questions. By then, the rest of the gang had caught up in the courtyard. All around them, preparations for the victory feast were being made. The Great Hall was being vacuumed and all the furs had gone to the dry cleaner.

The Fellowship stood in the center of the fray, surrounding the bright green painted 'PJ's Pickle Farm' cart.

"Not you again," Aragorn grumbled.

"May I pleeease have one?" Gimli begged Legolas, who was looking around for someone to help him. Legolas finally sighed.

"Well, I suppose we're not in mortal danger. Let's all have a pickle."

"Huzzah!" Gimli shouted, pulling out his dwarfy wallet.

"Right. What flavor can I get you folks?"

"Do you have elk meat flavor?" Nora asked politely.

"No."

"Oh." She looked at the cart. "Bread and butter, please."

"And what about you, my good sir?" The pickle man glanced at Gimli.

"I like 'em zesty," Gimli said proudly. "_Like my sweet Bonnie_."

After everyone collected their pickles, the pickle man threw back his head in laughter once more and ran off. "Sweet dreams!" he called over his shoulder. "That's foreshadowing!"

Eomer and Aragorn walked stately ahead of the group, talking manly things and munching on their pickles.

"Whoa, dudes! You're, like, the guys that totally saved Helm's Deep!" two young teenagers called out as they walked by. "We totally want to be heroes like you guys! We're gonna join the army, man!"

Drums begin to play in the background. "But do you have what it takes?" Eomer said quietly, swinging his head dramatically towards the camera. "Cut scene to the training field!"

*writers reluctantly cut to the training field.*

"_Let's get down to business… to defeat… the Huns_," Eomer belted out in a bold tenor as he swung his broad sword around. The men in the field raised their weapons with a mighty "Ha!"

"_Did they send me daughters_…" Nora and Azimah quickly frowned as they watched the performance.

"…_when I asked for sons_?" Eomer gave Legolas a quizzical look.

Aragorn suddenly sprang up in front of Eomer. "_OH, I JUST CAN'T WAIT TO BE KINGGGG_!"

Eomer sloppily shoved him out of the way. "This is my solo! Get your own!"

As Eomer continued singing a classic Mulan hit, Azimah turned to Nora. "C'mon, let's go help Eowyn set the tables for the feast."

"Good idea," Nora responded as she followed her bro off set.

…

"Thanks for helping, guys!" Eowyn led Azimah and Nora to the palace kitchens. "We just need to get some supplies…"

Azimah and Nora stood in amazement as Eowyn pulled the kitchen doors open.

"Great Odin's Raven…" Nora murmured.

"Ditto..." Azimah gasped.

The kitchens were in full swing in preparation for the feast. There was food _everywhere…_ Fat ducks baked with goats' cheese and fig preserves, spicy racks of meat sizzling over roaring fires, golden cakes studded with dried dates and walnuts, mushrooms cooking in thick brown gravy, hundreds of crusty loaves of bread, caskets of mead, flagons of hard cider, bottles of blackberry wine, gigantic wheels of cheese that could squash a hobbit, mounds of wild rice, roasted lamb with mint and rosemary, and of course a small platter of tofurkey for Gandalf, who was watching his figure.

"Ah, here are the tablecloths." Azimah and Nora's moment of nirvana was shattered as mounds of tablecloths were dumped into their arms.

"Let's get to work, ladies," Eowyn said cheerfully, grabbing a box of cutlery and leading them to the Great Hall.

…

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood for the sake of this country." Theoden raised his flagon. "Hail the Glorious Dead."

"Hail!" echoed through the Hall.

Everyone tucked into the magnificent feast. As Nora began with a giant turkey leg, she looked to see Azimah draped in fuchsia and sunset orange colored silk. The dress was covered in golden patterns and she wore golden bangles. Instead of her usual veil, Azimah wore her dark hair cascading down her back in ringlets. A golden circlet connected to a thin purple veil just below her eyes that wrapped loosely down to her shoulders.

"You look pretty," Nora stated through a mouthful of turkey.

"Thank you," Azimah said stiffly as she adjusted her veil.

"You had that packed the whole time?" Nora asked once she swallowed her food.

"Well, you never know when a fancy occasion's going to pop up," Azimah replied.

"Well that's no excuse… Wait, are those bells on your ankles!"

"Shut up!" Azimah spat. "Plus, you must've had the same idea." She nodded to Nora's royal blue dress with a sweetheart neckline that rested just off the shoulders. Around her neck hung a thin silver furred cape with a silver star clasp. Her hair was done up in a braid that wound around her head.

Azimah raised her eyebrow at the state of Nora's boots.

"What? I only have one pair!" Nora yelled, trying to hide her fur travelling boots tied together with leather strips and caked with mud.

"So, what's your limit on drinks tonight?" Azimah asked.

"I'm going all out!" Nora replied happily. She quickly reached towards the nearest mug of ale and began chugging. Azimah shook her head disapprovingly, wondering if Nora was of the drinking age. She had never bothered to question her friend about her age.

"Hello, ladies," Merry said seductively. He and Pippin showed up in their best vests, Pippin in his best scarf as well.

"Come, m'lady," Pippin said, grinning as he took Nora's hand and led her towards the bar. Merry skipped after them, a bottle of Elderberry wine in hand. "We have some catching up to do, gents!"

…

"So, it's a drinking game." Legolas stood puzzled, gazing down at the mug that had been handed to him by Eomer. Gimli sat across the table, his fist on a flagon at the ready.

"Last one standing wins," Gimli laughed as he downed his first cup. Legolas tentatively raised the mug to his lips.

Eomer kept the drinks coming as the two competitors picked up speed. Legolas kept his empty mugs in neat rows while Gimli haphazardly piled them in front of him.

Gimli began muttering about swimming with little hairy women and roaring drunkenly. Legolas suddenly put down his mug and stared at his hand.

"What is it?" Eomer asked.

"A slight tingle in my fingers." Legolas looked around dramatically. "I think it's affecting me."

"What did I tell yah?" Gimli slobbered, shaking his fist in Legolas's direction. "He can't hold his liquor…" Gimli's eyes rolled back as he toppled out of his chair and came crashing to the floor.

"I win." Legolas smirked.

…

Thirty minutes later, Azimah found Gandalf cheerfully snacking on a plate of tofurkey.

"What are you watching?" she asked curiously.

Gandalf chuckled and pointed. There, Nora, Pippin, and Merry danced on a table, kicking mugs of ale and plates of food into drunk men's faces. One particularly grumpy man had gravy and mashed potatoes dripping from his beard.

"Why, you young whippersnappers!" he yelled.

As Pippin and Merry skipped along singing all the words perfectly to their Hobbit-y song, Nora hummed vigorously to the tune.

"_You can drink your fancy ales, you can drink them by the flagon. But the only brew for the brave and true comes from our Green Dragon!_"

The crowd cheered as all three tipped back and drained their mugs. Pippin tripped off the table, dragging Nora with him. The two tumbled into the corner, Nora rolling on top of Pippin. In the middle of the drunken excitement, Nora seized Pippin's face and began kissing him lazily with an open mouth. The pair clung to each other, Pippin loosing Nora's cape in the process.

"Oh, dear," Azimah said, trying to push her way through the crowd.

"No, leave them in the sketch corner," Gandalf said wisely. "Let children be children."

Meanwhile…

"Alright. I'm gonna go talk to her," Legolas said courageously. The ale had started to take effect.

"Don't worry, bro, I got your back," Aragorn said.

Legolas was about to tell Aragorn that he _didn't_ want him at his back, but as Azimah quickly slipped out of the front door he took his chance to follow her.

"Alright, everybody, gather round!" Aragorn called once Legolas had gone out of earshot. "We're going to have sopranos over here, altos to my right, and tenors and basses take the middle! Now, follow my step, and one, two, three…"

Meanwhile meanwhile…

Azimah stood on the steps outside the Great hall, staring up at the stars. The cold night air whistled over the plains.

"_Quite a night, eh?_" The wind whispered in her ear.

"Quite a few days," Azimah responded thoughtfully. "I wish I could figure out what that pain was."

"_You're going to have to talk to him sooner or later, dear."_

"You don't know that. I can hold a grudge as long as I want to," Azimah whispered stubbornly.

"_No, dear, you don't understand. He's right behind you._"

"What…" Azimah jumped as she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a very roguish Legolas looking quite handsome in his silver tunic.

"The stars shine upon our meeting," he smirked, offering her a steaming flask.

Azimah was about to refuse when a particularly cold gust of air blew across the porch. Reluctantly, she accepted it, peering in to find it filled with hot spiced wine. She looked up to see Legolas toasting her with his own.

"Are you offering me a peace cup?" she asked, mildly surprised.

"You were always one for formalities," he said, smiling. "I see you're talking to me now."

"Don't get any ideas," Azimah said tartly. She pulled down her veil and took a sip of the wine. Legolas smiled at the sight of her face.

"Look, I just wanted to apologize officially," Legolas said graciously. "I don't expect you to forgive me right away, but…" He trailed off. There was a beat of silence.

"I suppose," Azimah began quietly, "we can go back to speaking terms. Start over."

Legolas nodded seriously. He was about to say something when the sound of African drums and the genius of Sir Elton John reached their ears. Suddenly, the doors of the Great Hall burst open and out spewed a group of rowdy flash mobsters with Aragorn front and center.

"_CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIGHT?" _they sang in eight-part harmony fortissimo, doing complex choreography.

Without saying a word, Azimah and Legolas walked in separate directions, avoiding any direct contact with the flash mob.

…

Nora sat at the bar, nursing a particularly large mug of mead. She heard somebody clear their throat behind her. She turned to look but she turned too fast and her head started to spin.

"Nora, I want to talk to you," Merry said as he climbed onto the stool next to her.

"'m listenin'," Nora slurred.

"It's about Pippin," Merry said seriously. Nora's facial expression changed to match Merry's tone. "Now, he was really heartbroken when you two 'separated' in Isengard. And now you're off dragging him into corners for a quick snog. He's my best mate, Nora, and a young lad at that. I'm not gonna have you messing around with his head like that."

Nora guiltily pushed the pint away. "Sorry, Merry," she mumbled. Merry gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

"Alright, you," came a voice from behind them. They both turned to see Azimah and Eowyn. "Look's like it's a little Nord's bed time!"

"But I don't wanna!" Nora protested as she rubbed one eye with a fist.

"Come on, sleepyhead," Eowyn said, helping her up. "Let's get you to the little princess chambers."

"Night, Merry," Azimah called over her shoulder as she and Eowyn supported a staggering Nora down the corridor.

"You know what, Azimah," Nora said sleepily. "You're my best. Friend."

Azimah smiled behind her veil. "You're drunk."

…

Moolie: Read and review, guys!

Ginny: Please.

Aggie: Pretty please.

Donald: Haroo.


	4. I Like Gimli!

*Aggie bursts into the apartment and slams the door behind her.*

Moolie: What is it?

Aggie: Dan's coming over!

Moolie: What! I'm not even dressed, I still need pants!

Ginny: I hear footsteps…

Dan: Guys, can you open the door?

Moolie: Aggie! Don't open that door!

Aggie: What? *opening the door*

Moolie: Noooo!

Chapter Four: I Like Gimli!

The ladies of the court gathered into the women's sleeping chambers for a night of girly gossip and makeovers. They all sat in a circle in their pajamas, giggling as they rolled around on squishy sleeping bags. After much struggle, Azimah managed to get Nora into her jammies and soon she was sobering up over a strong cup of coffee.

Eowyn sat with a bubbly redhead who was braiding her long blonde hair. "I saw you flirting with Lord Aragorn tonight," the redhead said, giggling.

Eowyn blushed. "Was not!"

"Oh come on, it was totally obvious," said a rather obnoxious lady-in-waiting with curlers in her hair.

"Not that I blame you or anything," said the redhead. "He is charming in that sort of scruffy, yummy way."

Azimah nearly vomited. "Sorry to say, ladies, but he's taken."

"By you?" the redhead said half playfully.

Nora started laughing. "What!"

Azimah rolled her eyes. "No, by Valor, no. Lady Arwen of Rivendell."

"Is she pretty?" another woman asked as she painted her nails.

"Yes, she's very beautiful," Azimah replied. She glanced at Eowyn, hoping her words weren't hurting the poor girl. If they were, Eowyn tried not to show it.

"How about that Eomer?" the redhead said, poking Eowyn in the side.

Eowyn frowned. "Please don't talk about my brother, girls."

"But he's sooo rugged!" another girl said. Eowyn socked the girl in the face with her pillow. Nora laughed.

"What about you, Nora?" Eowyn said, prodding the Nord's shoulder. "You were getting pretty busy in the corner tonight."

Nora stared at her coffee, embarrassed. "To be honest, I don't remember much. Except that he smelled nice."

"I just can't believe you would go for someone so short," one girl said.

"He's only a foot shorter," Nora said defensively. "Plus, with all the tall Nords up north you'd get kind of bored with height. He's cute and fluffy."

"But you two are just on friendly terms now, right?" Azimah reminded her.

Nora paused and sipped her coffee. "Something like that," she said quietly.

"I like Gimli!"

The room went silent, staring at the girl in question. It would take a brave soul to interrupt that silence. Nora didn't even laugh.

"You all are being ridiculous," Azimah said, changing into her nightgown.

"Oh, don't play high and mighty with me, Miss Elf. I saw you sneaking away!" the woman with the curlers said. "I heard there was something between you and Prince Legolas."

"Oh, please," Azimah brushed it off. "I don't fall in love for good reason."

The other girls turned away from Azimah, clearly not interested in her party pooper talk. Once the rest of the girls began giggling and teasing again, Nora turned to Azimah.

"And what good reason is that?" Nora asked.

"You probably wouldn't understand," Azimah said. "It's an Elf thing."

Nora frowned. "Please? It's gotta have something to do with that doll you've been pondering over obsessively."

Azimah's eyes narrowed. "How do you know about that?"

Nora grinned evilly. "We're bros. Spill it, sister."

"You make no sense," Azimah said. "But I guess I should tell you. We are…comrades, after all."

Nora shrugged. That's about as close as it would get for Azimah.

"Well," Azimah began. "I grew up across the desert with the Sand Elves with my older brother Ghalib and my sister, Amari. She's the one who gave me this." She motioned to the doll in her hand. "Amari and I were especially close, so I was incredibly happy for her when she got engaged to a warrior in our clan. However, we came into skirmish with the Haradrim, evil men of the East. My sister's fiancée was killed in battle."

"So what does that have to do with you?" Nora asked once she noticed Azimah's pause was a bit too long.

"Well, as you know, Elves are immortal. We can only die if we are killed or from a broken heart. Amari never recovered from her fiancée's death. I watched her pass, slowly and painfully."

"Ah," Nora said quietly. "And that's why you're staying away from Legolas?"

"Think about it, Nora," Azimah said. "We're in a war. Even if there was something to happen between us, it would prove fatal. That's why I can't let it happen."

Azimah realized how quiet the room had become and looked up. All the women had stopped to listen to her story, some with tears in their eyes. Azimah blushed as she crawled into her sleeping bag. She felt a prod at her side.

"But that means you like him, right?" asked Nora.

"Silence, mortal," Azimah grunted into her pillow. "Why are you always so nosy, anyway? It's not like you have anything to hide."

"Well," Nora started cautiously. All the girls leaned in for the juicy gossip. Nora took a deep breath.

"I may or may not have, against my will, agreed to be in partnership with a male individual to take part in the task of procreation and, uh, a spousal relationship, and then maybe I 'postponed' said agreement by, uh, running…"

The other girls looked at her, confused. Azimah, however, was shocked.

"What!" she shouted.

Nora looked uncomfortable. "Uh, time for bed, night!" She quickly burrowed into her sleeping bag.

…

"Satchel, I'm bored," a voice came from the wicker hamper.

"Did you finish those crossword puzzles I gave you?"

"Yes, yes I did."

"Rats. Do you want a book, then?"

"Fine. What is it?"

"'An Abridged History of Middle Earth: Minas Tirith'?"

"Ugh, that'll do."

…

Moolie: *sobbing* Oh, Dan, you weren't supposed to see me like this till our honeymoon.

Dan: What?

Aggie: Don't cry, Moolie. Dan, how could you!

Dan: Wait, what? She has boxers on. It's no big deal.

Ginny: Just ignore them, Daniel, they'll settle down soon enough.

Dan: I just wanted to borrow my laptop back.

Aggie: We…we smashed it, remember? This is Donald's.

Donald: Haroo?


	5. Back into the Fray

Aggie: Bros, I just had the strangest dream about a giant hawk and it landed on these mountains, right? And then this bear, like, mauled this guy I don't know.

Ginny: Fascinating.

Moolie: And why are you telling us, dear?

Aggie: Just read…

Chapter Five: Back into the Fray

Aragorn walked out onto the balcony. Legolas stood on the corner, brooding.

"So, what can you say, bro. I really came through for you," Aragorn said.

"Uh huh," Legolas mumbled.

"Listen, everyone's already asleep. Wanna head in?"

"No, I'll stay out here."

"Whatever you say, Lover Boy," Aragorn smarmily elbowed Legolas in the ribs.

*LET THE PICKLE-INDUCED DREAM SEQUENCE BEGIN!*

Azimah was the last to fall asleep. But even as she did, restlessness filled her dreams.

_Wind pulled at her hair gently. Sand crunched beneath her feet. An endless desert stretched before her; she could see the air wavering in front of her from the heat. She kept walking, but for what reason she did not know. As she stepped forward the scenery changed around her. Stone walls rose up before her and behind her, and it became dimmer. Candles were set in little niches in the walls and intricate rugs hung on the bare spaces. A curved doorway opened up before her and she stepped into a large room. A long intricate rug lay on the ground beneath her and stretched all the way across the room. She looked up. A figure stood before her, shrouded in a familiar veil. _

"_Azimah," her voice said. Chills went down Azimah's spine. She had not heard that voice in a very long time. "Azimah," she said again, the figure turning her head to her sister. "You have to let me go." Sand began to fall onto Amari's head, a faint rumbling sounding below them. Azimah looked around, flinching when sand fell on her too. What was going on? Sand started to fall from the ceiling all around the large room as the floor trembled. It was hard to keep her balance. _

"_You have to let me go, Azimah. You must go with him now," her sister said, her voice fading as the room started to fade into white. Behind Amari stepped Legolas. His eyes met Azimah's before he turned and walked towards the white light. _

"_But Amari, I'm afraid! I need you!" Azimah cried, reaching out to her sister as she began to fade into the whiteness as well. _

"_Go with him now, Azimah. __If you do not, you will never be able to—__" _

_Azimah reached out in vain for Amari but her hands met only air. The room was gone. Whiteness had taken its place. She was alone. _

Azimah woke, gasping for air. The pain in her chest had returned. She quietly slipped out of the girls' chambers, wrapping her bed robe around herself as she walked into the darkness of the corridor.

…

Gimli tossed and turned and grunted in the hay pile he was using for a bed as he dreamt up this doozy:

_The sun shone harshly across the plains of Rohan. One lone Elf sprinted across the grassy expanse. _

"_Unh. Unh. I can't go on!" Legolas gasped, tears running down his face. _

_Suddenly, in a cloud of dust and sweet perfume, a short and mighty blur sped past. _

"_Don't you know dwarves are natural sprinters!" Gimli called. _

"_That's my sugar pie!" Bonnie cried from the sidelines, wearing a scandalous low-cut scarlet ballgown complete with matching feathers in her hair. _

_Cue montage. Gimli is JUMPING, SPRINTING, and BEATING LEGOLAS at EVERYTHING. Gimli smashes five Orcs in one blow. _

"_That's 10 billion trillion thousand!" Gimli says proudly. _

"_I only have two," Legolas cries, collapsing on the ground in defeat. _

"_You can't beat my honey bear!" Bonnie calls as she bakes a PIE of VICTORY. _

_Gimli blows Bonnie a kiss. Bonnie fans herself and bats her eyelashes. _

_Gimli drinks five kegs of mead at once. Legolas takes a shot and passes out. _

_Gimli stars in 'Phantom of the Opera' with his magnificent tenor voice. Legolas whistles on the street corner for pennies. _

_Gimli walks on the moon. Legolas watches from Earth. _

_Gimli flies. Legolas is legless. _

_Gimli combs his hair back in a beautiful pompadour. Legolas's hair is greasy and thin. _

_Gimli comes home from work carrying a very successful looking briefcase. His wife Bonnie runs to him and greets him with a big, wet kiss. She's missed him all day. Their two bearded sons come to show him all the trophies they've won. Legolas sleeps alone in the homeless shelter. _

_It's real life. _

…

Nora's eyes fluttered half-opened as she felt a shift to her right. She watched sleepily as Azimah put on her robe and walked silently out of the room. Groaning, Nora wiped the drool off her pillow and flipped over, falling right back to sleep.

_Nora stood alone, her feet immersed in snow. All she could see is snow falling from the grey sky. A voice startled her. She could barely make out its figure a few feet in front of her but she could hear his rough, Nordic voice. He spoke in her native tongue. _

"_This is where you belong."_

_A man stood ten feet away. His long blonde hair was covered with a thin layer of snow. His facial features were strong and lacked emotion. Nora cried out at the sight of her father, more in disgust than panic. _

_Next to her father stood a smaller figure. His scarf flapped around his shoulders in the wind. Nora cried out for Pippin. Something came over her and she ran, as hard as it may have been in the snow, towards Pippin. Pippin gasped as he disappeared in the snow. In his place was a silhouette of a man. He continued to talk. _

"_Go home. You have duties there."_

_Before Nora on the snow flashed a young blonde man and children. As the silhouette disappeared into the snowy tundra, the young blonde man grew angry. He armed his battle axe and lashed out at Nora's father. Nora ran forward without a weapon, determined to save her father and kill the awful man. He struck her down with his axe. She felt no pain, gets up, and continued to fight back. She killed the man with her hands. His body and the children disappeared in the snow. Nora's father turned and nodded to her, but Nora felt no sense of relief or pride. She felt ashamed. _

…

_Frodo was running. White walls and high ceilings surrounded him. And people. So many people. Frodo was in a crowd of tall folk; everywhere he looked there was an arm or a leg, but never a face. He had to find her. Suddenly there was screaming. Everyone was running as the walls started collapsing. Fire and white marble everywhere. Frodo was pushed to the ground, he coughed in the smoke as trampling feet missed him by a hair's width. Frodo struggled to his feet. Through the crowd he could see a tiny form lying on its side, engulfed in flames. He wanted to yell her name, but all he could do was choke in the dust and smoke. A black figure was coming closer, it crouched by her side. Frodo tried to run forward, but the smoke had formed a chain around his neck. The ring was so heavy that it dragged him to the floor. The shadow man looked up; all Frodo could see was a mouth full of white peg teeth smiling at him. The crowd was gone; it was just the three of them now, surrounded by the fire. The shadow was on her now, his teeth lodged in her side. _

_"No!" Frodo choked. _

_The fire was fading. She was fading. The shadow was sucking life out of her. It grew cold as the fire faded to ash, Frodo shuddered. _

_The shadow man stood up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. _

_"Silly wench took long enough to find," He smirked. "Well, she's the last of them. You can have what's left." He patted Frodo on the head. With that he disappeared._

_Frodo could move now, he held her close. She was so cold._

Frodo awoke shivering. Sam sat nearby, trying to build a fire.

"Mister Frodo?" He looked concerned. "Can I offer you some corn spoonbread?"

Frodo numbly accepted the food, unable to criticize its saturated fat content.

…

_Lightning flashed as harsh rave music pierced the skull. The air was filled with thick, pink, sparkly smoke as rainbow butterflies pirouetted past. Glow sticks could faintly be made out in all the thick smoke and floating bubbles. There stood a waterbed, still quivering as if someone had just gotten off its zebra print silk sheets. _

"_Ah, well, back into the fray," the groovy, afro'd, young warlock's voice echoed as he stepped towards a door, wearing bellbottom pants and platform, corduroy shoes. _

Gandalf rolled over in his bed. "Ah, Wizard College," he muttered to himself, smiling.

...

Legolas stood watching the night sky. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself as the cold wind rustled by. 'Well, at least she's speaking to me now' he thought. Having Azimah shun him was the worst feeling he had experienced since his mother had traveled into the West.

"Ah, the solitary lookout."

Azimah had appeared at his side, wrapped in her robe.

"What are you doing out here?" Legolas asked softly.

"Couldn't sleep, weird dreams…"

"Oh…" Legolas tried to keep his eyes on the stars, but Azimah's aura of warmth felt so inviting. His mind started to wander when he felt a hand on his shoulder blade, causing him to jump.

Azimah laughed quietly. "Calm down. It's only me."

'You have no idea,' he thought, trying as hard as he could to focus on the stars, the valley, anything…

Azimah laughed again. Had she heard him? Was he talking out loud? Legolas began to panic. Everything felt so surreal, Azimah's hand on his shoulder, then down to his chest, gliding lightly over his own hand. Legolas closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.

His arms seemed to move on their own accord, wrapping around her waist, drawing her closer.

"Azimah," he whispered with a smile, his eyes half opened.

"Legolas," she replied quietly. Legolas closed his eyes and prepared for something he had dreamt of many times before.

"Legolas!" she said again, this time deeper and louder.

Legolas's eyes opened wide. All he saw were the stars and dark valley in front of him. His heart dropped.

"Legolas!" he heard again, immediately and sadly identifying the voice as Aragorn's. He turned to see Aragorn with a scared look in his eyes. "Bro, I just had this gnarly dream where Gimli was king and I wasn't and everyone had beards, man! Even you! And there were these bears, these bears with weird scales that popped out of the ground and-"

"You were dreaming about sand bears?" Legolas asked a bit shakily, still recovering from his dream.

"Yeah, it was terrifying!"

Legolas smiled a bit to himself. He and Azimah were the only people in the company who knew that sand bears didn't actually exist.

Suddenly, he picked up on some commotion indoors. "Do you hear that?"

"No, stupid, I don't have Elf hearing," said Aragorn, a little put out that Legolas hadn't been more sympathetic to his horrific nightmare.

"There's something going on inside. Some presence…" Legolas's eyes narrowed.

"I'll go check it out!" Aragorn said. He quickly turned around, tripped slightly, and kept running into the hall. Legolas sighed, grateful that his cloak was so thick. Thankfully Aragorn hadn't noticed…

…

Aggie: See?

Ginny: Yes, well…

Moolie: Bye, guys!

Ginny: And where are you going?

Moolie: Out with Dan!

Aggie: Whatevs. Ginny, wanna play some DND?

Ginny: If you leave out machine and ray guns, then sure.

Aggie: Yesssss.


	6. Save the Dumplings!

Ginny: And we'd like to thank our readers…

Dan: *bursts in* SHE'S MISSING!

Aggie: Yay…

Ginny: How'd you lose her!

Peter Pan: Heheheheh. That's right.

Chapter Six: Save the Dumplings!

Aragorn and Legolas sprinted down the hallway towards the sleeping chambers. Members of the court poked their heads out, not at them, but the commotion coming from the end of the hallway. Aragorn turned the heavy iron latch, yanking the ancient door open. Inside was chaos.

To their great alarm, Pippin was thrashing around in the center of the room, holding the multicolored orb that now burned aflame.

"Someone help him!" shouted Merry. Eomer grabbed a fire extinguisher and tried to put out the fire.

"It's not working!" he panicked.

Aragorn jumped valiantly to grab the orb, falling to his knees as the pain quickly transferred to his body. He collapsed on the floor and the flaming ball went rolling to Legolas's feet. The Elf quickly kicked it towards the door. Azimah and Nora, who had come from the girls' chambers, saw the ball and quickly passed it back and forth before kicking it to Eomer. Eomer screeched and kicked it to Aragorn, who had regained composure. Gandalf shoved his way out of the crowd and threw his cloak over the orb.

"Gooooal!" Nora yelled happily. Her face fell when she saw Pippin lying wide-eyed and stationary. Merry knelt beside him, panicking. Gandalf pushed Merry out of the way, passing his hands over Pippin's face and muttering.

Nora walked over to Merry, who exchanged a frightened glance with her. They both stared helplessly as Gandalf tried to revive Pippin. Suddenly, Pippin began gasping for air. There was a sigh of relief from the room. Merry squeezed Nora's hand.

"What did you see?" Gandalf interrogated. Pippin's eyes widened.

…

"Fortunately, Master Peregrin has caught a glimpse of the Enemy's plan," Gandalf's voice rang through the Great Hall. The Fellowship stood silently around as the Wizard and the King discussed Pippin's fate. The hobbit in question sat, looking quite guilty as the two men paced around him. "Sauron plans to strike Minas Tirith next. He fears the strength of Men after his defeat in Helms Deep. An heir has come forth to challenge him." He nodded towards Aragorn. Aragorn stepped, puffing his chest out. Théoden stuck his tongue out at him.

"We must ride to their aid," Aragorn stated.

"Tell me," Théoden said. "Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours?"

Aragorn moved forward threateningly, but Legolas stopped him.

"Whether or not Rohan rides is the King's decision," Gandalf said. "But I'm leaving for Minas Tirith today. Denethor needs my counsel."

He stopped and looked in Pippin's direction.

"And I won't be going alone."

…

"Of all the inquisitive hobbits, Peregrin Took, you are the worst," Gandalf said, trudging down the steps to the stable. "Hurry, hurry."

"I don't know why we have to go," Pippin told Merry halfheartedly.

Merry rounded on him, clearly upset. "Don't you understand, Pip? The Enemy thinks you have the Ring. He's going to be looking for you. We have to get you out of here."

"And…and you? You're coming with me," Pippin said softly.

Merry simply turned and marched on after Gandalf.

"Merry?" Pippin called.

"Come on," Merry said harshly without looking back.

"How far is Minas Tirith?" Pippin asked, slightly frightened as Gandalf lifted him onto Shadowfax.

"Three days ride as the Nazgul flies," Gandalf said seriously. "And you'd better hope we don't have one of those on our tail."

"Where's Nora?" Pippin asked, looking at Merry with frightened eyes.

"She wouldn't come out of her room," Merry replied. "Here. Something for the road."

"The last of the Longbottom Leaf?" Pippin asked, taking the leather-bound tobacco from him.

"I know you've run out. You smoke too much, Pip."

"But we'll see each other soon, won't we, Merry?" Pippin said, starting to panic as Gandalf mounted the saddle.

"I don't know," Merry choked. "I don't know what's going to happen." Merry bit back tears as he backed out of the horse's way.

"Merry…?"

"Come, Shadowfax, show us the meaning of haste," Gandalf beckoned the horse.

"Merry!" Pippin yelled as the horse galloped out of the stable and down the hill. Merry sprinted across the road to the nearest watchtower, shoving his way past a guard on the staircase. Nora stood, gazing after the horse as Pippin disappeared across the plains.

"Do you suppose we'll ever see him again?" Merry asked.

Nora remained silent. She wiped her eyes and walked slowly back towards the Great Hall.

…

Faramir nudged Satchel awake with his foot.

"Wha…!" Satchel yelped, unsheathing his sword as if preparing for a blow.

"Wake up, Men!" Faramir ordered.

"What is it?" Satchel asked, standing at the ready.

"Orcs. Hundreds of them coming in from the river. We won't be able to hold this wave off," Faramir explained. Satchel nodded as Faramir continued to round up the men. He felt a nudge at his side.

"What's going to happen to Kelly?" Fado asked. "And the Chinese people from the food court?"

Satchel sheathed his sword. "We're going down the well, Fado."

Fado followed him silently. The screams of soldiers could be heard from a distance. Satchel grabbed Fado's hand. "Hurry," he said quietly. The two broke into a run.

As they neared the well, Satchel scooped up Fado and leapt in. Both were silent as they slid into the darkness. Satchel set Fado down when they reached the bottom.

"I'll go get Kelly. You round up the workers in the food court," he said.

Fado nodded and ran into the kitchen. Satchel sprinted up the broken escalator to the dance studio.

"Kelly!" He yelled, gasping for breath as he threw the door open.

"What's going on?" Kelly exclaimed as she put away the last box of Zumba- Toning sticks.

"We've been over run!" Satchel grabbed her hand. "There's not much time!"

Satchel began to run but Kelly held him back. "Satchel? I've always wanted to tell you this…" He turned around and stared deeply into her eyes.

"Yes?" he asked breathlessly.

"You're a really good dancer," she whispered.

Satchel stared at her for a moment. "I know," he whispered back.

Meanwhile…

"No, I don't want to place an order!" Fado screamed impatiently, waving her arms. "We need to get out of here!"

"We won't leave without an order, Miss," the man behind the Happy Panda Noodle House counter said.

Fado sighed. "Give me the menu, quick!"

…

"Pull back!" Faramir screamed. "Pull back to Minas Tirith!"

He led the Rangers of Gondor in their retreat as they frantically ran to grab their belongings and mount their horses.

"Wait!"

Faramir turned to see a crowd of people running towards them, bringing a heavenly scent along.

"What is this?" he asked.

Satchel and Kelly sprinted in the lead, holding hands. Fado followed close behind, leading the entire staff of Happy Panda Noodle House, who was carrying pots upon pots of Chinese food.

"Good job, Private." Faramir nodded to Satchel as he mounted his horse. "Retreat!"

…

Azimah didn't see Nora at dinner. She returned to the girls' chambers to find Nora's pack missing.

"She didn't…" Azimah hissed through gritted teeth. She sprinted back up the hallway and out the door. Down by the gate, a lantern glowed in the stables. Azimah groaned and took off running down the hill. She arrived in the stables to find Nora saddling a horse.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Azimah demanded.

"Just out for a ride," Nora responded without turning around.

"And taking your pack with you?" Azimah stalked over to the horse accusingly. "You could be killed, kidnapped; you don't know what lies out there! You can't just go after them! Do you even know where Minas Tirith is? And all this for some spontaneous-"

Nora turned and stared at Azimah. Their eyes met for a long minute.

"I'm not losing him again," Nora stated quietly.

Azimah looked as if she was about to say something. Instead, she gave Nora a much unexpected hug. She pulled back quickly, regaining composure. "You're going to leave me with all these smelly men?"

Nora smirked. "Azimah, I smell worse than a lot of those guys."

Azimah watched as Nora rode off into the night.

'It's not fair,' she thought to herself as she slowly climbed the steps back to the Great Hall. 'She goes running away for love and I…'

Azimah stumbled a little. She stopped, frightened at the sudden weakness in her legs.

"Where'd Nora get off to?" Aragorn called when Azimah had entered the hall.

"She went out for a ride."

…

Ginny: Give her back, you scoundrel!

Peter Pan: Not unless someone challenges me…in a duel.

Ginny: Oh damn-

Aggie: I will.

Dan: Wait, I was supposed to say that-

Aggie: Shut up. I have a sword.


	7. Dinner Sounds Great

Aggie: *walks in with caked with blood and pixie dust* It's done. He's dead.

Ginny: Jesus Christ!

Moolie: You killed one of childhood's most beloved characters!

Aggie: It had to be done.

…

Chapter Seven: Dinner Sounds Great

"We'll get there when we get there, Master Peregrin!"

"But Gaaaandalf!" Pippin whined.

"Oh, shut up and eat your trail mix and Slim Jims!" Gandalf shouted, quite grumpy after the long journey to Minas Tirith.

"But I don't want it anymore!" Pippin continued to whine.

Gandalf suddenly reined the horse to a stop and slowly turned around to face Pippin, the edges of his beard crinkling in fury. "I paid 10 Middle-Euros at that rest stop for those bloody Slim Jims and that trail mix. Now you'd better eat and be happy about it!"

Pippin forced a painful smile and took a hardy bite out of a Slim Jim.

"We're nearly there, Peregrin," Gandalf stated cheerfully, trying to recover from his small meltdown. "See the white towers?"

"What white towers?"

"Oh, they're right over there by the giant, flying – OH, TOLKIEN'S PANTS!"

"What! What is it?" screamed Pippin, holding on for dear life.

"Nazgûl!"

"What's our plan, Gandalf?" Pippin asked, looking frantically around for an escape route.

Gandalf's eyes narrowed. "We're gonna ride straight into the fray."

"Wait, that doesn't seem like a well-thought out plan!"

"Yah!" Gandalf shouted as the horse sped up toward Minas Tirith.

….

"Ride, Men! Make for Minas Tirith!" Faramir shouted over the screaming of Men and screeching of the Nazgûl. To their credit, Faramir's troop was trying its best to fight off the flying assailants. Satchel dug his heels into the sides of his horse; Kelly sat behind him trying to distract the fell beasts with her special edition boomerang Zumba weights. Fado was riding with the Happy Panda fry-cook, sending well-aimed pot stickers into the fell-beasts' eyes. But even as they ran pell-mell towards the city, it looked like the end was drawing near.

"Kelly!" Satchel shouted above the chaos. "If we don't make it, I wanted to say-"

"THE WHITE RIDER!"

The Nazgûl shrieked as a blast of brilliant white light permeated across the field. The beasts flew away screeching as Gandalf joined Faramir's riders, holding his staff high.

Gandalf turned to Faramir with a grin. "And that's why I stayed that extra four years at Wizard College."

"And who are you?"

Gandalf looked up him, puzzled. "They…they just announced me. I'm the White Rider…"

Faramir eyes lit up. "Ohhh!"

"Open the gates!"

The knights of Gondor streamed into the town square. A lone rider quickly slipped into their ranks before the gates slammed shut.

"Welcome home," Satchel said, lifting Fado off the horse.

The Sprite looked around cautiously at the numerous guards and the high walls. "Where am I to be held?" she asked quietly.

Satchel looked down at the little creature that he had come to care fondly for. No, that was stupid. She was his charge. She was to be a weapon of mass destruction. But he couldn't bear himself to cart her off to some horrid cell. Satchel took her hand.

"Come on," he said. "There's someone you need to see."

….

"What is it?" Gandalf asked as he observed Faramir's reaction to Pippin. "This is not the first Halfling to come across your path," he murmured.

Faramir nodded. Pippin's face brightened at the news.

"You've seen Frodo and Sam?" he asked hopefully.

"Where were they, Faramir?" Gandalf asked. "Tell me everything."

"Pippin!"

The three turned to see Satchel and Fado elbowing their way through the crowd. Pippin let out a high-pitched cry and hopped off the horse to deliver a warm, Hobbity hug to his friend.

Passersby looked on as the two little people jabbered away happily.

"How did you get here?" Pippin asked excitedly.

"How did _I_ get here? How did you get here?" Fado responded.

Pippin made a face. "No, seriously, how did you get here?"

"That's a question," Gandalf said, climbing off his horse majestically, his beard swinging in the light breeze, "I think we all need to ask."

Fado froze, pointing a quivering finger. "Ghoooost!"

Faramir watched as the scene dissolved into chaos and hilarium: Fado began to hyperventilate at the site of Gandalf's "ghost," Gandalf was trying to convince the poor sprite that he was, in fact, alive, and Pippin continued to obliviously ask questions.

"What is the meaning of this?" came a rather snotty voice from the crowd. Madril approached the group, causing Fado to shrink away behind Satchel. Madril turned to him. "Private, why isn't our charge in custody?"

"Charge?" Gandalf asked, frowning. "I don't quite follow you."

"This creature," Madril sneered, seizing Fado by the shoulders, "is property of Gondor. She was captured for trespassing on our eastern borders, along with a couple of other intruders," he said, giving Faramir a nasty glance, "who the Captain allowed to be set free. But no matter, for this one will serve as great a weapon as that Ring would have."

Gandalf's eyes lit up with realization and he hefted the staff in his hand angrily. "You saw Frodo?" he asked Faramir.

The redhead nodded, saying, "Not but two days ago, at Osgiliath. We let Sam and him leave with that gangly creature, Gollum or something."

"Regardless," Madril continued. "The sprite is now in the keep of Gondor."

"We shall see," Gandalf said, taking a threatening step forward. "There are matters still left to be discussed."

"Is anyone else hungry?" Faramir asked hopefully, trying to break the tension. "We can talk this out over lunch, I know a great Thai place."

Everyone glared at Faramir.

"Why doesn't anybody like Thai food?" Faramir sighed.

"You don't have a permit to park that Clydesdale!"

"You shaddup!"

There stood a rather intimidated guard, trying to subdue an angered she-warrior.

"Madam! You are trying to tether your horse in a spot that is specifically reserved for smaller animals!"

"Are you calling Petey fat?" Nora barked back. "I take that as an offense!"

"Nora!" Fado called, ecstatic to see her friend alive.

Nora abandoned the annoying parking officer and scooped Fado up in a crushing bear hug.

"What? You're alive? Come here you little fart!"

"Hey Nora…" Pippin smiled weakly.

"Hey," Nora smiled, letting go of Fado. Pippin quietly walked to the Nord, who embraced him in a warm hug.

"I missed you," she whispered in his ear. Pippin smiled but remained silent, enjoying the moment before it was gone. As Nora pulled away, she noticed a tall, redheaded man looking towards her. They stood for a second, locking eyes. Pippin looked nervously between the two of them and cleared his throat.

"This is, um…this is Nora," he said to Faramir, trying to break the silence. "She was an original member of our fellowship."

"Very good to meet you, m'lady." Faramir gave a low bow, kissing Nora's hand. Nora blushed and gave a timid smile. Pippin felt his stomach drop. Why had she never reacted that way…

"Alright, everyone!" Gandalf exclaimed. "We can all catch up later. For now, that Thai food sounds quite ravishing!"

…..

Gandalf and Pippin made their way up through the winding streets of Minas Tirith to the top level of the city. The wizard was still considering what that man Madril had said about Fado being their charge. And he was also thinking about the news of Frodo and Sam. And he was also thinking about how to not piss off Denethor. He had a lot on his mind. So having Pippin along with him did put a strain on things, seeing as the hobbit always screwed up during crucial moments.

"Now Pippin," Gandalf said as they climbed the stairs to the Hall of Kings. "Denethor is the steward of Gondor, and he is also Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be unwise."

Pippin gasped and stopped on the stairs, looking up at Gandalf, shocked. "You mean—?"

"It would be best if you did not mention Boromir. Or Frodo and the Ring. Or Aragorn. Or anyone else, for that matter." Gandalf said, turning to walk for the door, but turned once more to Pippin. "And while I'm thinking about it, it might be best if you not say anything at all."

Pippin nodded uncomprehendingly.

The guards on either side of the doors opened them for the wizard and the hobbit. Pippin had to fast walk to keep up with Gandalf's gait, and the hobbit was taken aback by the brilliance of the Hall with its long rows of white statues and flying buttresses. Hehe, butt. And at the end of the Hall stood a tall, plain white throne. Beside it stood a shorter, darker marble chair where a man sat hunched over.

"Hail Denethor, son of *somebody*, Lord and Steward of Gondor." Gandalf said once they stood before the shorter chair. Pippin stared at that greasy hair and grimaced. "I come with tidings in this dark hour." Gandalf went on. "And with counsel."

"Perhaps you have come to explain this," Denethor muttered, raising a familiar horn, cleft in half. Pippin's eyes widened. Gandalf suddenly remembered that lovely jazz number he once played on that horn. "Perhaps you have come to tell me why my son is dead?"

*The camera zooms in on Gandalf's face. You can almost see the "oh shit" in his eyes*

"It was all Merry's fault!" he burst out suddenly. Everyone looked at him. "Oh, um, I mean, Boromir died defending my kinsman and me."

The doors at the other end of the Hall were flung open abruptly and Madril stalked in, shouting, "It was my turn to see Denethor first, you stupid whizard!"

Gandalf turned to the soldier, saying, "No, my rock clearly beat your scissors _twice_."

"I said best one out of three!"

"That doesn't even make sense—."

"SHUT UP."

Gandalf and Madril frowned at each other, and turned back to Denethor.

"My Lord, while in Osgiliath, I came across a rather useful creature. I have brought you a weapon of great power," Madril said, and he motioned to the door. Fado was brought in, bound hand and foot like some kind of animal. Satchel reluctantly walked behind her as another soldier dragged her forward to the steward. "She is a fire sprite, Lord Denethor, capable of destructive magic."

Nora took a threatening step forward.

"Nora…" Gandalf said warily. Without warning, Nora sprang to free her friend, only to be restrained by Faramir.

"It would be best not to upset his Lordship, m'lady," Faramir said quietly. Nora regarded him nervously, unsure of how to handle his sudden proximity.

"This is my court!" Denethor called out, trying to once again be the center of attention. "I will have order!"

Everyone reluctantly turned back to face the steward.

"Continue, Madril," Denethor sighed.

"With training, I'm sure it will provide to be a most effective force for the good of Gondor. And we should utilize it, seeing as we've already lost one resource…" Madril glanced at Faramir, grimacing. Faramir returned the glare. "The Ring of Power was allowed to pass peacefully through our borders, thanks to the clemency of your most _faithful _son."

Denethor turned an angry gaze to Faramir, who could not bring himself to meet his father's eyes.

"But, no matter," Madril continued cheerfully. "We have secured the flame sprite and will now be able to harness its full potential."

Gandalf stepped forward. "My Lord, I must protest," he spluttered indignantly. "This "creature" you speak of is a young girl. The last of her kind. You callously talk of her as an object, something to be used and thrown away."

"I will not follow some ranger from the north!" Denethor called out, completely out of turn.

"Um, sir," a servant quickly skipped up the steps, handed Denethor the script, and whispered something in his ear.

"Oh." Denethor's eyes widened and he flipped through the script.

Those standing at attention began twiddling their thumbs as they waited for the steward to finish reading. Gandalf sneakily pulled out his wizphone out of his robe and began to text conspicuously. "Dinner sounds…great…L..O.L , smiley face," they heard him mutter into his beard.

"Right, uh, we're gonna carry on from page 47, paragraph 2. Is that alright with everyone?" Denethor called out uncertainly.

"Yeah."

"Sure."

Everyone began nodding their heads in agreement, and there was many a 'totally' and a 'yes, yes' from the group.

"Don't think I am blind, Mithrandir. I know you wish to use me as a puppet in order to move me aside for that young upstart Aragorn."

Pippin bounced his toes beside Gandalf, whispering excitedly, "I know him!"

"Gondor is in peril," Gandalf argued. "Light the beacons; sent for help—from Rohan."

"From Rohan? Why those hicks? Besides, I know who rides with Théoden. I will not bow to this ranger from the north!"

A tense silence fell over the group. Madril cleared his throat. "Well, seeing as that's all sorted out, I'd like to bring forward our newest captive—."

"You already introduced her!" shouted the servant from before, poring over his script.

"Right, sorry. Anywho, shall I have the sprite detained, my lord?"

"Yes; do as you wish, we'll deal with her later." Denethor sighed as he sat back down in his chair.

"My Lord, please." Pippin stepped forward, glancing anxiously back at Nora. "I would like to enter your service to atone for Boromir's death."

Denethor looked mildly surprised. He merely nodded. "You can get the application at the help desk. Just be sure to directly ask for it from Julia."

"Julia." Pippin nodded. "Got it."

…

Satchel bent to pick up his traveling pack that had been deposited outside the throne room. Madril approached, tugging on Fado's chains.

"We've arranged a cell in the top security vault," Madril drawled, handing Satchel the chains. "Make sure it's good and comfy." He patted Fado a little too roughly on the head. Satchel felt something angry rise from this stomach.

"Sir!" he called. Madril turned, eyebrows raised. "Don't you think it would be more appropriate if she were to have somewhere less threatening to her health? I've heard that the watchmen catch dreadful fevers down in the security vault, and goodness knows it'll be far too cold and damp for a fire sprite. We want her to be functional when the time is right, don't we?"

Madril paused, thinking over Satchel's offer. "Very well," he conceded slowly. "But only if she's on good behavior. One mishap and it's the security vault for her."

"Yessir!" Satchel said, unable to contain a small smile.

"Wipe that grin off your face, soldier!"

Satchel frowned. "Yessir."

…

"Well it's not much, but it's home." Satchel finished tucking in the corners of a teddy bear-patterned quilt. Fado had been allowed to stay in Satchel's room in the barracks. A tiny trundle bed had been set up at the foot of his cot.

"Those are some sharp corners." Fado patted the bedspread. "It seems like you know what you're doing."

"Yeah." Satchel shrugged. "I've had a lot of experience."

Fado gave him a quizzical look. Satchel seemed lost in thought, looking down at the little trundle bed. She decided not the bother with asking him anything and abruptly gave him a hug.

"Thanks for sticking up for me," she mumbled into Satchel's tunic.

"No problem," Satchel replied in a strained voice.

"What are you doing in here!" came a voice from the corridor. "Women aren't allowed down in the men's barracks!"

"Oh, piss off!" There was a scuffle and a clatter. Suddenly, the door burst open and Nora stumbled in, unphased by nearly tripping over her own two feet. "Fado!"

"Please calm down," Fado stated bluntly.

Nora took on a serious face. "But I am calm," she said in an unusually mature voice.

Satchel smiled at the two of them. "I'll leave you ladies to catch up."

The two girls silently watched Satchel leave the room. Right as the door shut, Nora turned to Fado. "What happened with Frodo and Sam?"

Fado sat cross-legged on her trundle bed. "Well…the four of us were captured by Faramir and his men—"

"Hold up—recount."

"Oh, Gollum joined us along the way."

"Addressed. Continue."

"Originally, the plan was to take all of us to Minas Tirith to be used for Gondor's warfare. Except Sam. Nobody really wanted Sam. However, after a Nazgûl attack at Osgiliath, Faramir permitted the others to leave."

"Why not you?"

"It was either the Ring or me, and the Ring had to continue its journey." Fado shrugged, fiddling with her skirt.

Nora sat down next to Fado, picking through Satchel's travel pack. "I'm sorry to hear that. The separation must've been hard for you."

"Yeah…" Fado said quietly.

"Especially since, well…you know…you two never officially hit it off."

"Well…"

"WHAT!" Nora screamed, excitement flashing across her face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, it was during the battle and kind of spur of the moment…"

"Did…did, uh…did he…" Nora searched for a proper way to phrase the question. "…tongue?"

Fado turned bright red. "What? No!"

Nora smiled and nodded.

"Well…maybe a little…"

"You little hussy!" Nora yelled, tackling the sprite into a hug. "So what've you been doing since you two separated? Must've been boring without eye candy."

"Oh!" Fado reached under her head, pulling out a giant tome. "Satchel's leant me this. It's an abridged history of Middle Earth."

Nora sneered at the book. "So, you've been reading during all this excitement?"

"But you wouldn't believe what I've found. They had a small excerpt in the chapter of Fangorn Forest about a clan of fire sprites."

"What did it say?"

"Ah, it merely acknowledged their existence."

"That's a start, right?"

"I guess. I wish I could find more information regarding my people and how we came about."

Nora thought on this for a few seconds. "You know, there's a fairly large library here. Perhaps you could go check it out sometime?"

"That was a very helpful factoid, Nora," Fado stated, pleasantly surprised. "Thank you for that."

Nora nodded, pleased with her day's work.

"So, what have you and Azimah been up to?"

Nora shrugged. "Eh. Not much. We killed people, Legolas ate her face. You know."

"Wait—"

"Aghhh, it's been a long day," Nora interrupted, stretching out her arms. "I'm just beat."

"Nora, it's midday."

"Regardless, nighty-night." With that, Nora jumped up from the bed and skipped out the door. Fado sat puzzled for a moment.

"What do you mean he ate her face!?"

...

Moolie: You guys ready to watch the second season of Golden Girls?

Aggie: Yeah!

Ginny: Did any of you feed Zombie Peter Pan today?

Aggie: I thought you were…

Moolie: You killed him, he's your responsibility now.

Aggie: Ugh! Fine. I'll go get the cat food.


	8. A Horrible Tease

Moolie: Hey…hey Dan, what are you doing with that dark gun?

Dan: Tranquilizing you three. It's getting far too rowdy in here.

Ginny: Think about what you're doing, Dan…

Aggie: Me first!

…

Chapter Eight: A Horrible Tease

"I really hate Elvish bread. Hate, hate, hate," Sam complained, spraying a mouthful of Lembas crumbs onto the rest of his party.

"That's quite enough, Sam," Frodo snapped. Usually he could take Samwise's whining, but the closer they were getting to Mordor, the more he had been on edge.

Sam sobered up, glancing nervously at his friend. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Stupid fat hobbitses. No one to talk to. Sméagol misses Mummy. Hates nasty Elf bread," Gollum groaned. They were seated on a ledge halfway up the crooked stair.

"How have you been taking that, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked carefully.

"Fine, Sam. I'm fine."

…

"Phew! That was one what killer workout!" Satchel groaned happily. He and Fado trudged into the room, setting their Zumba gear in the corner. "I think I'm gonna lie down for awhile…" Satchel collapsed onto his cot and promptly fell asleep.

Fado cautiously crept over to Satchel's bedside, giving him a good poke to check his state of consciousness. Satchel snored on, unphased. Satisfied, Fado scurried over to her trundle and traded in her exercise clothes for a simple frock. She cracked the door to the room ajar to check if anyone was coming down the corridor. Luckily, the coast was clear. Fado set off down the hall and up the stairs, creeping through a maze of halls and passageways before arriving at the Great Library. She held her breath, backing into the shadows as the royal book keep made his rounds. Fado then pattered past the shelves, scolls, and tomes towards the records of Fangorn history. With shaking hands, she made every effort to be silent as she picked through the literature. She finally settled on a charred work of parchment, coated with a thick layer of dust, retreating under one of the desks to read.

Autumn, _Year 3334 of his Majesty, Isildur, king of Minas Tirith. We have continued our negotiations with the Fire Sprite Clans of Fangorn, despite rumors of unrest. Their requests for aid have been shunned by their earthen cousins nearby, so they now turn to the White Citadel for aid. The cause of their plight is unclear, though there seems to have been bouts of madness among several of their smaller villages, causing widespread destruction in that portion of the forest. Earth Sprites have shut their gates for fear of their own safety. We are sending a team of our finest healers, as well as several footmen, to help restore order and find the cause of this madness._

_Winter, Year 3334 of his Majesty, Isildur, king of Minas Tirith. These are dark times. The cause of the flaming madness has been found, and it is not a pleasant one. It seems that the creeping darkness from Mordor has reached the safety of Fangorn. Sauron, Lord of the Black Lands and Dark Fire has sought the company of Inferni, flame demons, to harvest the souls of the Fame Sprites. It begins with bouts of rage, before progressing into full possession of the body. The now possessed creatures are then summoned to the Black Lands, where their bodies and souls are fed to the Mountain of Fire to fuel the rage of the Dark Lord. We have withdrawn all contact with the remaining clans for the safety of our men, as we must now look to the creeping darkness at our own borders. May Valor help the remaining Sprites and guide them safely._

_Spring, Year 3335 of his Majesty, Esildor, king of Minas Tirith. According to our scouts residing with the Earth Sprites, the raging fires of the Inferni have burnt to dead ash. As of this record, the Flame Sprites are an extinct race, consumed by their own flames. May Valor have mercy on their souls._

Fado slumped against the wall, struggling to breathe. "_As of this record, the Flame Sprites are an extinct race." _It was confirmed; she was the last of her kind. What's more, it was confirmed that she was possessed. By an Inferni, or whatever it was. She was destined to disintegrate into a demon. Numbly, she refolded the parchment, placing it back on the shelf. Slowly and quietly, Fado made her way back down to the barracks. She crept back into the room, carefully turning to close the door so she wouldn't wake Satchel.

"And just _where _have you been?"

Fado turned, to see Satchel standing before her, arms crossed in anger. He stalked forward, locking the door before grabbing her forcefully by the shoulders and sitting her down on her bed. He paced before her, seething, finally stopping out of exasperation.

"Well?"

"I was reading." Fado stared numbly at the floor.

"Where?"

"In the library," She replied indignantly.

"And why the hell," Satchel continued, his voice rising in volume. "Did you think _that _was a good idea? You could have been seen! They would have carted you off to the dungeons in a heartbeat!"

"Well, maybe it'd be better that I was!" Fado shouted back. "I'm doomed to rot sooner or later anyway! Why not put me somewhere where I won't endanger the lives of everyone around me?"

"Can't you see I'm trying to keep you safe, Imoge-" Satchel halted mid sentence, his face darkening. He sank , shaking, onto his cot head in his hands. Fado felt small and frightened, unsure of what to do. She cautiously moved towards him, lightly touching his shoulder.

Fado, confused about what exactly just happened, patted Satchel's back reassuringly. Satchel seemed to calm down a bit.

"Who were you talking to…" Fado asked cautiously.

Satchel took a deep breath. "I had a wife; her name was Kendra," He started in a low voice. "We lived in one of the outlying towns of Gondor. We had a little girl, Imogene. You…you remind me of her." He cast a glance in Fado's direction. "I was out with the town's hunting party getting rations when the raiders came…" He started shaking harder, barely being able to choke out his words. "They burned…e-everything to the ground…I w-wasn't there…why wasn't I there?!" Fado hugged him while he wept silently. He finally straightened, wiping his face. "I became a soldier of Gondor, so that I would have every chance to avenge their deaths that I could. You…you've started to mean a lot to me. I don't know what I would do if they put you away."

They sat together for a while before Fado spoke. "I was trying to find out where I came from, where my people came from," she said hollowly. "They were massacred. All of them driven to madness and sacrificed. I am officially the last of my kind, the ghost of an extinct race. And soon I too will be consumed."

Satchel cradled her like a child. "The Dark Lord has taken both of our families," He said quietly. "But he will not take you. I swear it. We will inform Gandalf tomorrow, he will know what to do."

…

"Alright, run this by me again."

"For the fifth time, Miss Hallbjörnsdóttir, you and Master Took are going to clamber up the tower, sneak to the beacon, and set it aflame," Gandalf explained, rolling his eyes. "It's quite simple, really."

"And do you actually think we're qualified for this job?" Nora asked.

"Well you won't see _me_ doing it. Bad back and all. Besides, I might chip a nail." Gandalf examined his perfectly-manicured cuticles with wonder.

"You can count on me, Gandalf!" Pippin exclaimed, straightening his vest excitedly.

"Yes, well," he muttered as they approached the first level of the tower. "Get climbing, kids."

Nora and Pippin looked at each other, confused.

"Ladies first, I suppose," Pippin coaxed. Nora frowned. "I'll be right behind you, I promise."

Nora nodded and paused. "Wait." She suddenly whipped out her battle axe and tossed it to Gandalf, who fell under its sheer weight.

"AH, my rheumatism!" he shouted.

Nora began to climb the first level of the tower, clumsily at first but soon getting the hang of it. Pippin soon followed. Ten minutes later, they were a good two-thirds up the cliff face. Pippin, curious to see how long they had to go, glanced upwards. Fortunately for him, Nora's garb of choice that day happened to be a simple tunic with nothing but a rather tight pair of stockings underneath.

Pippin swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden restrained mobility of his pants, and continued to climb with his head down.

Nora poked her head above the ledge as they reached the top. The guards were enjoying their lunch break. Nora quickly beckoned for Pippin to climb beside her. Together, they crept up the back of the beckon. As quickly as she could, Nora reached upwards and tipped over the basin of oil. Pippin then grabbed the torch and threw it down. The two of them grinned stupidly for a moment at their work before they realized they were standing on a burning platform.

Nora began the climb back down, but before she could barely get started, her stockings got caught on the jagged wood of the pyre. Without thinking, she hurriedly ripped the rest of the stocking away, just barely escaping the flames.

"Pippin, you go down first!" she yelled over the fire as she struggled to remove the rest of the stockings from her legs.

"No," Pippin replied bluntly, knowing what would come out of this. Either Nora was more of an idiot than he was or she was a horrible tease.

Nora didn't argue and quickly began climbing down, Pippin close above her. They made it down in half the time it took to go up. Gandalf, who had just finished his pipe and daily crossword, greeted them with an amiable smile. "Well done, you two! Anyone up for lunch?"

…

It was a bright, sunny day in Rohan. Perfect for tanning. Aragorn, fully equipped with his trifold tanning mirror, sun lotion caked unevenly on his face, and cucumbers plastered onto his eyes, was still soaking up the rays by the afternoon.

He suddenly sat up, the cucumbers falling off his face, taking a big portion of the sun lotion with them. He sniffed the air and glanced around the courtyard. "What is that _smell_?"

"It wasn't me," came Gimli's voice from the lawn chair next to him. Aragorn looked at the dwarf, who had already eaten one of the cucumber slices that had previously protected his eye.

"I know it wasn't you," Aragorn spat as he looked up. "It's coming from the beacon. Egad, Gondor calls for aid!" He jumped up, sheer excitement lighting up his face. He tried to run to the doors of the Great Hall, but his excitement got the better of him and he ended up jogging in place for a good two minutes, repeating, "Oh man, oh man, so excited, oh man…"

Azimah opened the doors of the Great Hall and watched this curiously. "Erm, Aragorn…"

Aragorn stopped and tried to regain composure, smoothing back his hair nonchalantly. "Azimah. The beacon is lit. Our help is needed in Gondor. We finally get to fight again!"

Azimah smiled behind her veil and gave Aragorn a victorious jump/high-five combo. "Yes!"

Legolas strolled in, holding a conversation with Eomer on proper shampoos. Without missing a beat, Aragorn shouted gleefully, "WE'RE GOING BACK TO WAR!"

Eomer and Legolas held hands and jumped in unison, crying, "Huzzah!" There was much rejoicing. Many a high-fives and hugs were exchanged. People in the courtyard who weren't even going to war joined in on the excitement. Eowyn took advantage of the chaos to obtain a lock of Aragorn's hair.

Amid all the hullabaloo, Azimah found herself hugging a certain blonde Elf. She tried to back out quickly, but Legolas's embrace was stronger than expected. Legolas, for his part, wasn't doing this on purpose. The realization that she was again in his arms had temporarily paralyzed him (authors have "shameless cheese" party).

"L-Legolas, you can let go now…"

"Right." Legolas quickly let go. "Sorry."

"C'mere, you old softy," Aragorn exclaimed, tackle-hugging Legolas from behind. Azimah took this opportune moment to slowly creep away.

…

Nora and Pippin trailed behind Gandalf on their way back to Denethor's abode, chattering mindlessly about lunch and their successful escapade. Gandalf, who had blocked out the noise half an hour before, noticed a few snow white elk parked by the king's tree in the courtyard. 'This could be bad,' he thought as he studied the rough metal and leather saddles embossed with traditional Norse symbols.

Nora stopped suddenly in her tracks and stared at the scene before her. She began to back away, but Pippin caught her hand. "What's wrong?"

Nora shook her head, feeling like a little kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Gandalf beckoned for them to move onward up the steps.

The three entered the hall, Nora's face drained of what little color there was. Gandalf gave her an encouraging pat on the back. "Stand fast, my dear."

Before them stood Denethor talking to a group of big, rough-looking men decked in furs and blue war paint. The most impressive of the men, a tall, burly blonde man with a magnificently braided beard stranded with silver. The man turned towards the newcomers, immediately locking eyes with Nora.

"Honora Ingar Jacobine Hallbjornsdottir," he boomed, his voice reverberating off the high ceilings.

Nora bent her head in respect. "Father."

…

Aggie: You guys should read and review. Nighty-night.


	9. Whizzbangs

Ginny: Donald, what are you doing.

Donald: Haroo!

Translation: Well, seeing as you were all tranquilized, I took the opportunity to do some home décor!

Aggie: It's all pastels. I hate pastels.

Moolie: Good work, you whale.

…

Chapter Nine: Whizzbangs

"No one told me about the beacon being lit!" Théoden scolded his army about their premature celebration in the courtyard. "I am the leader! I get to make the decisions!"

Merry, who stood behind Théoden and mimicked his every move, crossed his arms and huffed, "Not cool, you guys." Théoden sneered, irritated with the hobbit, but said nothing.

The assortment of warriors was silent. Aragorn smirked. 'Pff, leader.'

"I mean, this is a crucial plot point, you guys!"

"Seriously!" Merry agreed.

"And then you all had to go celebrate the beacon being lit at a Thai restaurant of all places! Really, guys? Thai food?"

There was much grumbling. "It was the only place open," Gimli stated.

Eowyn frowned. "Why doesn't anyone like Thai food?"

In the back corner, Azimah stood fading in and out of the meeting. Her vision suddenly began to narrow and blur.

"Well, now that we've all decided to go to war, I have to get 3,000 men from Snowborne and 5,000 from the outlying lands...and don't even get me started about the supplies and tents…did you not even think about all the work that I have to do now because of your stupid decision? Did no one think of me!?"

"So selfish!"

"Merry, please!"

Azimah attempted to blink the strange vision away, but it continued to grow worse. She began to sway.

"It was an afterthought…" Aragorn reassured him. "Trust us. We thought of you."

Théoden stuck out his lower lip in a trembling pout. "You guys suck."

There was a sudden thud from the back of the room and Legolas gave a shout.

…

Denethor sat at the head of the obnoxiously long table, Gandalf facing him on the opposite end. On Denethor's right side sat Hallbjörn, Nora's father, who faced his brother and Nora's uncle Gregers on Denethor's left side. Next to Hallbjörn sat Faramir, who Hallbjörn took a great liking to. Across from Faramir sat Nora, her head lowered to keep from looking at any of her family members. Next to Nora was Pippin, who was strategically sat across from the third Nordic man, named Ansgar. Pippin was mighty suspicious of this third Nord; Nora would never make eye contact with him and he was the only one of the three Nords that she hadn't greeted.

As the party was served their dinner, the silence became almost unbearable. Faramir, eager to break the ice, turned to his left to face Hallbjörn.

"So, Lord Hallbjörn, how was your journey?"

Hallbjörn began a frightful tale of the three Nordic men's journey to Minas Tirith through blizzard, hail, and political protest. Faramir immediately regretted asking the question.

"…but, of course, once we heard my dear Honora was down here, we just had to trek on." Hallbjörn turned his solid gaze to his daughter, who refused to meet his eyes. "Look at me, child."

Nora raised her head, anger washing over her face. "I'm not a child, father. I'm nineteen. And I don't need you to be making my decisions for me. If I decide to fight for the good of my people, I am going to do that."

"You know damn well you had no right to leave Forodwaith," Hallbjörn stated. "You had made a commitment to Ansgar, but you had to be a child about it and run away."

Nora finally mustered up the courage to meet Ansgar's gaze.

Pippin, realizing his mouth had been open in disbelief for well over five minutes, stopped the conversation from proceeding. "Wait, wait, wait…I'm afraid I'm not following."

Hallbjörn decided to recognize the hobbit's question. "Allow me to explain. Honora was—still is—engaged to this man, Ansgar." Hallbjörn gestured to the young Nord two seats down. Ansgar acknowledged his name with a small nod, but said nothing. Pippin noted the blank look on his face and wondered if all young Nordic warriors were as dense as the man before him.

Hallbjörn went on, "My _daughter_ instead decided to run away from her life up north and join this fellowship. Obviously, she was too selfish to realize how much shame it would bring upon our family, as well as Ansgar's." Hallbjörn turned his attention to Nora. "It is not your place as a woman—an engaged woman, no less—to be here in the middle of a war. You were never to join this fellowship. You were to stay in Forodwaith and start a family with Ansgar—"

Nora slammed her glass of wine on the table, interrupting her father. "I have held my own in this fellowship from day one, Father! Yes, I am a woman, but I am not completely helpless. You couldn't keep me in Forodwaith for the rest of my life!"

Hallbjörn, obviously used to this behavior, was unphased. "So impulsive," he muttered, shaking his head. "Just like your mother. Jacobine was never the ideal Nordic woman, either." He looked at Nora, who was still shaking from her outburst. "You're looking more like her than ever, Honora."

Nora regained her composure. "I will not marry Ansgar," she stated firmly. She glanced at Faramir in front of her. "I'll choose who I want."

"Oh, fuck me…"

The rest of the party looked at Pippin after digesting what he had muttered. Pippin, however, didn't seem bothered by his small outburst or the sudden attention. He simply continued to stare at his food.

"You are impossible to deal with," Hallbjörn said, turning the attention back to him and Nora. "And what has happened to your appearance? Disheveled hair and a man's tunic _without tights_? What were you thinking? You look like a common whore."

Nora made a face but remained quiet. Gandalf, who had been observing silently for the majority of the dinner, finally chimed in. "Perhaps we could change the conversation to a lighter topic. Denethor, don't you agree?"

Denethor looked up at the mention of his name, shrugged, and nodded unconvincingly.

Gregers, the oldest of the Nords at the table and Hallbjörn's brother, took the initiative. "How's my boy, Ludvig?" he asked Nora. "I understand he left with you for Rivendell."

"Last I heard, he was still there," Nora replied, still a bit shaken from the previous conversation. "I believe he's helping our friend Ghalib back to health. They became very close while we were there."

Gregers nodded, mulling this information over. The change in subject obviously did not kill the tension in the room. It was silent for awhile longer before Denethor spoke.

"So, Osgiliath has fallen." The old man glared at his son a few seats away. "We must reclaim it."

Faramir slowly put down his fork. "Father, you realize…this will be a suicide mission?"

"Is there not a captain here who wishes to serve me?" Denethor asked, turning his gaze away from his son.

Faramir looked at his plate in thought. He drew a shaky break before speaking. "You wish now that our places had been switched. That I had died and Boromir had lived."

Denethor finished a swig from this goblet of wine. "Yes. I wish that."

Choking back tears, Faramir answered calmly, "Since you were robbed of Boromir, I will do my best in his absence."

To break the heavy silence that followed, Hallbjörn patted Faramir on the shoulder. "What a good son you have here, Denethor! Doing his father's will." The Nordic man glared daggers at his daughter, who had seemed affected by the previous exchange of words. Without another word, she pushed her chair back and walked out of the room with her head high. Pippin, eager to get more answers, followed minutes later.

…

Azimah awoke on her bedroll, confused.

She blinked as blurred lights came into view. Groaning, she tried to sit up but the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her skull were both too much. She fell backwards, only to be caught and guided gently to the ground by strong hands.

"Easy there," a worried voice chided her.

Azimah blinked as Legolas came into view.

"W-what…"

"You fainted," Legolas wiped her forehead with a cool cloth. "Azimah, you must be ill. I do not think you are fit to ride to battle."

"I am, I swear I am," Azimah fought to sit up again, only to fall back once more to her bedroll.

"Azimah, you are not well-"

"Legolas, it was simply a dizzy spell, I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Azimah." Legolas put a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her down. "I have no notion as to what ailment you have but it is serious. I shall not allow you to leave your bed until you are recovered."

"I promise you it is nothing."

Legolas paused, his face unreadable. He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"You are not telling me something, _elen nîn_."

Azimah felt her face color at the pet name. She lay on her side, looking away. She felt his hand rubbing her arm.

"Why can you not tell me? What have I done?" Azimah couldn't see his face, but she could sense the pain in his voice.

"Please leave…" she murmured.

"_Elen nîn -"_

"Do not call me that," She snapped weakly. "Please leave, Legolas."

As he motioned to go he felt her hand frantically grab his.

"And don't you _dare _try and leave for battle without me," she said, giving him a hard stare.

Legolas gave a smile. Feeling a little bit wicked he leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth.

"Whatever you wish, _my star_."

Azimah somehow mustered the energy to smack him hard across the face.

…..

"Alright, well, onto your 'whiz' I will add Z-B-A-N-G-S. Whizzbangs, that's thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-seven points! Plus triple word score, so…One-hundred and eleven points."

Fado happily tallied her score, while Satchel sat dumbstruck at her Scrabble skills.

"There is no way that's a real word…"

"Oh but it is!" Gandalf teleported next to Satchel, enjoying a light, after-dinner cup of Darjeeling tea. "We used it all the time in Wizard College."

"Well," Satchel was trying to gain composure, after nearly peeing his pants upon Gandalf's sudden arrival. "What does it mean then?"

"Oh you naughty boy," Gandalf giggled from behind an authentic Japanese tea fan. "I'll never tell!"

Satchel scooted a few inches away from Gandalf.

"Why are you here Gandalf?" Fado asked, drawing a few new tiles for the next round.

"Satchel informed me about your episode in the library the other day," Gandalf started. "I have done some of my own research. Your mother was an earth sprite, correct?"

Fado nodded.

"And your father?"

"I never met him. They cast him out of the village before I was born."

"So, he was a flame sprite, then?"

"I assume so."

"Meaning that you're technically only a half-flame sprite."

Fado pondered what the wizard had said. "I never really thought of it that way. I suppose the fire genes have already been the more dominant."

"Well, I take that as a sign of hope, dear Fado," Gandalf reassured her, patting her hand. "The demon would not be able to take a full hold on you unless you allow it to do so."

Fado felt a weight lift off her chest. She gave Gandalf a big hug.

Gandalf made his way back to the door, pausing to draw a small notepad from his beard. "One good deed for the day," he muttered, scribbling fast. "Now I can go mess with Denethor!" And with that, he exited the room.

Fado turned her attention back to the current Scrabble game. After examining Satchel's most recent move, "prostate," she smirked and put down her tiles.

"E-X-A-M. Prostate exam!" She exclaimed, looking proud of herself.

Satchel studied the latest entry and angrily flipped the board over. "No."

…

Pippin found Nora lying on her bed belly-down in her room, resting her face in her folded arms in front of her. The hobbit, unsure of how to approach the Nord, let out a weak, "Hello."

Nora lifted her head from her bed and smiled at the sight of the hobbit. "Hello, Pippin."

Pippin slowly approached Nora's bed, fooling with the buttons on his vest. "That was…quite a scene back there."

Nora frowned. "Sorry about that. Stubbornness runs in the family."

The room fell into silence. Pippin rocked back and forth on his heels.

"So…" He searched the room for a non-awkward place to fix his gaze. "When were you gonna tell me you were engaged?"

"Pippin, please," Nora buried her head in her pillow. "Not now."

"Because I feel like it's a rather large piece of information, considering…well considering us…"

"Pippin, if you do not want to be gutted, castrated, and dragged a thousand miles back to Forodwaith by an elk, I suggest you keep your mouth shut about that when my father is around."

Pippin looked at her. "So there is something between us?"

"I honestly don't know, Pippin," Nora said. "But I think our current situation is complex enough as it is."

Pippin grimaced and turned towards the door. "Right."

…

Dan: So, how is being tranquilized, everyone…you…you decorated your home?

Aggie: It was the whale.

Dan: A whale? You guys, I didn't think it would affect you this much…

Ginny: Old news, Dan.


	10. She Wants Me

Aggie: This salad is tasty, Ginny.  
>Ginny: Sure is. Glad we're finally eating healthy.<br>Moolie: Guys, that's weird looking lettuce. Did you get it at Whole Foods? You know we can't afford that!

Aggie: No, it's Carol.

Moolie: It's…what?

…

Chapter Ten: She Wants Me

Eomer sighed deeply. The up and coming battle could mean life or death, and yet here he had to settle. He cautiously reached down and picked up the harrowing instrument with his hand.

"Thanks for letting me borrow your bedazzler, Aragorn," Eomer said hollowly. "I left ol' Betsy back at Edoras."

"It's nothing, man," Aragorn said nonchalantly. "That thing's gotten me through a lot of turmoil. It will serve you well. And don't forget, I bought the 'Deluxe Tropical Shades' pack. I really think the coral and the sunset fuchsia will go well with your chainmail." Aragorn reclined in a pink plastic lawn chair, his fingers outstretched to help dry the clear base coat of nail polish.

All around them, men were sharpening swords and pleating beards. Polishing armor and plucking eyebrows. Stringing bows and waxing bikini areas. Gimli was busy braiding lovely pink azaleas into his fiery red beard. Theoden carefully applied "Touch of Grey for Men" to his elegant old man hair. Legolas struggled to put a purple-colored contact into his Elf eye.

Azimah was none too happy with the operation at hand. As much as Eowyn tried to cheer her up or help her do her hair, the she-Elf refused to move from her pouting position, arms crossed and a snarl plastered across her face.

"C'mon, Azzy! It's fun!" Eowyn encouraged, tugging at Azimah's arm.

"No."

A ways away, the friendly old blacksmith had finished wiping off his salon chair. "Why, hello, Mr. Brandybuck! Is it time for your 2 o'clock curling appointment?"

"I believe so," Merry said tersely, closing the Glamour magazine he had been skimming.

As Merry sat with curlers in his hair, he heard the pleasant song of a mistle thrush, which inhabits many of the woodlands of Middle Earth. Merry sprang from his chair, nearly losing many curlers in the process. As the thrush daintily dropped a rolled piece of parchment into the hobbit's hands, Legolas skipped by, one eye closed and watering. "Damn these contacts!" Merry quietly ducked beneath the Elf, scurrying secretively toward his pack. Before he could put it away, Eomer tackled him to the muddy ground, laughing jovially.

"What's that in your hand, little hobbit?" he asked, snatching the letter from Merry.

"N-no, wait!" Merry stuttered, rising to his feet and puffing out his chest. "Give that back!" It was too late. Eomer had already unrolled the paper and donned his half-moon spectacles.

"_Dearest Meriadoc,_" Eomer started, immediately gaining the attention of all the other protagonists. Merry's face was stained blotchy purple in embarrassment. "_Thank you for sending the lovely flowered handkerchief. I shall keep it with me for luck." _

"Sent her your handkerchief, huh, Merry?" Gimli jeered.

"I think it's cute!" Eowyn chimed in.

Eomer rolled his eyes at his sister and continued. "_I pray you are doing well. Sometimes I worry about you. I hope that when this whole ordeal is through, we could go on that picnic in the Shire you promised me." _

At this point the entire cast of men started to get rowdy with collective "Ohoho"s and "Hohohohoho"s. Legolas attempted to join in, but his damaged eye was too great a distraction and he began to cry in the middle of his laugh.

Eomer recovered from his fits of giggles long enough to finish reading the note. "_Please stay safe for me. I hope I am not being too forward by penning this word, but I send my dearest love. Atzi."_

The men began to patronize the love letter from the forest sprite.

"Who's this Atzi writing you love notes?" one soldier asked, putting a hand on his shapely hip.

Merry snatched the letter out of Eomer's hand in agitation. "This girl I met back in Fangorn. She wants me. No big deal."

The men quickly dispersed and walked back to their previous tasks. Merry read the note over again and, smiling to himself, tucked it under his shirt.

…..

This was not one of Samwise's better days. So far, they had skipped second breakfast _and_ elevensies, and now this emaciated grey creature was leading him and Mr. Frodo up an endless flight of stairs to Tolkien-knows-where. Mr. Frodo hadn't been doing well as of late. He refused to eat and his color was much paler than usual, which was saying something. He was irritable, ill-tempered, and growing worse everyday.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam called ahead. "What was that, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo had been muttering under his breath for the past hour or so as he climbed up the stairs in a state of delirium. "Heavier…it's…getting…"

"Why don't we stop for a break?" Sam recommended cheerfully. Frodo merely gave a jerky nod. The three of them came upon a fairly sizable ledge to rest on. Frodo sat down and slumped weakly against Sam's shoulder. Sam offered him a chunk of Lembas bread, but Frodo waved it away absentmindedly.

"Fado…" Frodo muttered, his eyelids fluttering.

"Don't worry, Mr. Frodo!" Sam said. "We'll see her again, don't you worry. We'll see everyone again! After all of this blows over, we'll see Fado and Strider and we'll be back home, safe and sound, in the Shire!"

As Sam droned on about his plans after the war, Frodo kept muttering, as if he couldn't hear him. "It's my fault…it's all my…"

"What's your fault, Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked.

Frodo slowly turned his gaze up at him. "She…I couldn't…"

"Miss Fado's fine, Mr. Frodo. She can hold her own."

"I couldn't stop them."

Sam smiled grimly. "We'll get her back, Mr. Frodo," he said unconvincingly. "Don't worry."

…

"Please, _please _don't go!" Fado begged as Satchel prepared his pack. "Lord Denethor is crazy, you can't seriously be following his orders!"

Satchel solemnly crouched before Fado. "Listen: I'll be back in no more than a day's time. You won't even have time to miss me, okay? Now, chin up. I don't want to see anymore of those crocodile tears."

Fado sniffed and went to embrace him. Satchel, holding back manly tears, returned the hug. After awhile, Satchel straightened up and grabbed his pack.

"Well, I guess I'm off, then."

"No, you're not."

"Fado, I thought I said-"

"There's still someone you have to say goodbye to."

…

Kelly was frantically organizing and reorganizing her tiny studio on the second level of Minas Tirith. After alphabetizing her Zumba records for the fifth time, she resorted to pacing the hard wood floor.

"Hey."

Kelly looked up into full-room dance mirror in front of her. Satchel stood, breathless, in the doorway, setting down his pack.

"I thought you were already on your way," Kelly whispered.  
>Satchel slowly approached her. "I had to say goodbye."<p>

"Satchel, I can't-"  
>"Kelly, listen to me. If anything should happen to me, you need to keep an eye out for Fado."<p>

"But nothing will happen, right?" Kelly asked, on the verge of tears.

Satchel took her hands. "I cannot promise you that. But I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to return to you."

"You mean more to me than my limited-edition Zumba toning sticks autographed by J-Lo," Kelly said tearfully.

Satchel gave her hand a final squeeze. "You make my heart soar as if I'm doing a cumbia-merengue 6-step combo." He slung his pack over one shoulder and turned to go. Satchel stopped at the doorway; something had come over him. He turned sharply on his heels and marched over to Kelly. Tipping her chin he leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth. He broke off, looking nervously at her. Kelly gave him a teary smile, then leaned up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear.

"You were always the spiciest salsa dancer in my class."

….

Satchel arrived back at the barracks just as the other men were saying their goodbyes and saddling their horses.

"Satchel!" Faramir called. "Where have you been?"

Satchel wiped his eye swiftly. "Kelly. She wants me. No big deal."

Faramir smiled knowingly. "Satchel, you old dog…"

Denethor suddenly stormed into the barracks. "Let's get a move on, now! Gotta get home in time for lunch!"

Faramir looked at his father sadly before turning to mount his horse.

"Faramir," Gandalf said. "Do not go on this fool's errand. It is suicide."

"It's what the steward commands," Faramir responded tonelessly. "What am I to him if not a good Captain."

"Your father loves you, Faramir," Gandalf went on. "He will realize it before the end."

Nora approached Faramir, patting him awkwardly on the knee. "Look, I have Dad issues, too. You've seen how I deal with it. And…" Nora searched for words, girlishly tucking her disheveled hair behind her ear. "…I think you're a pretty good Captain."

Faramir squeezed her hand and gave her a warm smile. The farewell party backed away as the soldiers nudged their horses into motion. Nora stepped beside Pippin to watch them go.

"Seems as if you two have gotten quite friendly…" Pippin muttered. Nora, baffled, opened her mouth to fire back a sarcastic response, but Pippin turned and walked away without another word.

…

Nora sat on her bed, deep in thought. The events that had taken place over the last couple of days were not panning out well. She rolled back onto the mattress and groaned.

"Damnit," she sighed. "It's not like I _meant_ to piss him off."

"Tell me about it," Fado said, inexplicably emerging from Nora's covers.

Nora proceeded to tell her about it. "I wasn't thinking straight. I'm usually level-headed when it comes to men, but Faramir's so handsome and well-spoken and polite…it just gets to me. And I hate it, but it gets to me, you know?"

Fado nodded as she picked at a hangnail on her thumb. "I know, I know."

Nora sighed again, lifting herself onto her elbows. "And I like Pippin. I really like Pippin, Fado. But dealing with being a runaway bride, proving myself as a capable warrior, _and_ trying to sort out whatever this is between us is too much. I don't want to like Faramir like this, but it happens, you know? I mean, I do like Pippin…"

"You said that three times, Nora," Fado stated, smirking.

"Yeah…" Nora looked at the wall in front of her, then at her bare feet, then at the small sprite in her bed. "How'd you get in my room, anyway?"

Fado waved her away. "Irrelevant. We're talking about boys."

Nora nodded. "How's the whole Frodo situation going?"

Fado shrugged. "I miss him. Heck, I miss everyone."

"What are you thinking of doing after all of this is over?" Nora asked.

"I don't know," Fado said softly. "I don't really want to go back to Fangorn, but it's not like I have anywhere else to go."

"Yeah, I don't really like the idea of going back to Forodwaith…" Nora thought for a moment. "We could always bum around here for awhile. Or go to Rohan. Ever been to Rohan?"

Fado shook her head.

"Well, it's nice."

Fado joined Nora in looking up at the ceiling. "We could always go visit the Shire, you know."

Nora smiled. "Yes, I know."

"There'd be cute boys there."

"Yes. I know."

…

Azimah laid on her bedroll, looking up at the ceiling of the tent she shared with Eowyn. She tried to ignore the pains in her chest as she glanced out of the opening of the tent at the stars, wondering how many more nights she would get to see them. It was very lonely there in the dark.

…

Ginny: She was a weak link, Moolie! And we need a _strong chain_.

Moolie: She trusted you! And you stabbed her in the back!

Aggie: We were hungry, Moolie. And Ginny's getting fat.

Ginny: Negative.

Moolie: …fine. Pass me some, will you?


	11. Arrogant Footsteps

Aggie: Guys. Guys. Guys.

Moolie: Mrrrmrmmm.

Ginny: Zzzzzzz.

Aggie: You guuuuys! Wake up!

Moolie: Fiiiiine.

Aggie: Who knew mutated plant leaves could be such a heavy sedative!

...

Chapter Eleven: Arrogant Footsteps

The Men of Rohan were trying to stomach their way through another one of Eowyn's awful concoctions. Gimli was chasing an unrecognizable white chunk around in his bowl with his spoon. Legolas scanned the area; Theoden had picked quite the place to make camp. The army sat in the shadow of the mountains. Theoden and his generals had their tents on a cliff overlooking the troops. Legolas glanced down at the gelatinous mass in his bowl.

Azimah gagged quietly next to Legolas. She was looking a bit off-color. She got up and staggered away from the circle.

The rest of the company had waved away Eowyn's offers of seconds and made their way back to their tents. The wind was moaning and the horses were restless. Eomer ran ahead to calm down his steed as it struggled to break loose of its tether. A red pony with a white mane galloped wildly across the path.

"Eponaaaa! Come back!" A blond boy wearing tights and a green windsock cap chased after the horse, puffing frantically on a silly blue instrument.

"Friend of yours?" Aragorn raised an eyebrow at Legolas.

Legolas sighed. "The horses are restless and the men are quiet."

"That…that has no context." Gimli offered sadly.

"It was my next line…" Legolas said doubtfully, checking his script.

Gimli drew his script from his beard and Aragorn drew his from the deep cleft of his chin. They mulled it over for a minute or two.

"We could restart from the wind moaning part…" Legolas suggested.

A pageboy ran up, panting. "My Lord Aragorn, Lord Elrond is here for his next scene!"

"Dammit, I haven't even fallen asleep yet! Could you stall for me?"

"Aye aye, cap'n!" the pageboy saluted and ran off. Gimli shook his head in disapproval.

"Look, I'm sorry guys." Aragorn started walking away toward his tent. "I gotta cut this short; Lord Elrond needs me for the next scene. Now where did I put those sleeping pills…"

...

Denethor mulled over the lunch menu in his hands. "What's 'Not Lasagna?'" he asked the waitress standing over him.

"Not lasagna, sir," she responded.

"Well." Denethor pondered the choices before him. "I don't really like lasagna..."

"Then may I suggest the 'Not Lasagna?'"

"Hmm, very well..." Denethor muttered, quickly handing the menu back to her before she shuffled away. As the steward nibbled on his appetizers, he glanced sidelong at the figure standing on the steps near him. Pippin, who was busy toying with the thread of the White Tree on his new tunic, failed to notice Denethor's look.

"Can you sing, Master Hobbit?" Denethor asked.

Startled, Pippin jumped. "Yes...at least, well enough for my own people. But we have no songs for great halls and evil times." The hobbit glared at the steward.

"And why should your songs be unfit for my halls?" He paused and the two locked eyes. "Come, sing me a song."

Pippin remained quiet, uncertain of the request. After a deep breath and a bite of a tomato on Denethor's part, Pippin began what he thought to be the most fitting song.

_Home is behind, the world ahead _

_And there are many paths to tread…_

Fado and Nora sat huddled behind one of the grand marble statues that lined the hall. Fado leaned on Nora's shoulder and gave a tired sigh. Pippin's song was sad and lonely, but he seemed to carry the tune with ease. Nora looked down at the little sprite. Fado had gone through some trouble trying to hide from the guards now that Satchel was gone. Nora could relate; she, too, had been hiding from her newly arrived family. The two had been scrambling from corner to corner around the keep, avoiding any unwanted attention.

Loud and arrogant footsteps interrupted the two girls' daydreams. They looked to where the noise was coming from. Two guards walked with high knees, grimacing at nothing in particular, down the hall toward them.

"Come on!" Nora whispered harshly, grabbing the sprite's hand before she could say anything in protest. The two ran quickly and quietly down the opposite hallway.

...

The smoke of the Rohirram camp fires snaked towards the moon. Aragorn was finally starting to drift off after taking a huge dose of sleeping medication. As he slipped into deep sleep, a familiar, slender figure passed in front of his vision.

_She stood there on the pavilion, as beautiful as the day they had first met. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back. She was wearing a gossamer lilac dress. Aragorn sat up. She was his one true love, his future queen. _

_Aragorn slowly lifted himself off the couch he had been reclining on. His arms went around her delicate waist. _

"_I wish to look into your eyes, my love," Aragorn whispered into her lovely elf ear. It was a bit hairier than usual. Aragorn was confused, but didn't consider it further. "May I please see your lovely face?"_

"_Okaaay," a high pitched, squeaky and slightly pained voice answered. His love turned around, revealing a reluctantly familiar face, caked with cheap eyeshadow and sloppy lipstick. _

"_Egad!" Aragorn squealed. "Haldir!?"_

"_Aaarwen was feeling a bit under the weaaather," Haldir whispered angrily. "I'm her uuunderstudy."_

"_Are you…in drag?" _

"_I'm not proooud of what I'm doing." Haldir adjusted his fake eyelash. "Let's just get this ooover with."_

_Aragorn kept his lips tightly pursed as he went in for the scripted make out session. Haldir turned his face to the side and squeezed his eyes shut. They were just inches away from each other now… _

"AHHHH!" Aragorn awoke, drenched in sweat, with his dagger drawn and ready for combat. The same pageboy from earlier stood petrified at the entrance of his tent.

"L-Lord Elrond is here for you…" he stammered. Aragorn sheathed his dagger and nodded for the boy to leave. He stood up, pulled his trousers up, and exhaled uneasily. He exited his tent, feeling slightly dirtier than before his slumber.

...

Fado and Nora were officially lost. Somewhere in the process of trying to lose the guards the girls had totally disoriented themselves in the maze of hallways.

"C'mon," Nora said quietly. "Let's try this door."

They exited into a poorly lit corridor. Fado shivered; this place gave her the heebie-jeebies. Two solitary torches lit the dark expanse of hallway. A dark figure darted between the flickering shadows.

"Nora!" Fado whispered frantically, grabbing Nora's arm. "Nora, there's something in here!"

"I don't see anything," Nora murmured, squinting her eyes.

Fado turned to see a pair of eyes, burning like coals in the shadows; they blinked and disappeared.

"We have to get out of here!" Fado tugged at Nora's hand.

"Fado, keep it down or someone will find us!" Nora hushed her.

"Something's already found us!"

An ashen hand stretched out from the shadows, bits of smoldering tissue falling away.

Fado let out a shriek and pulled Nora down the corridor with a surprising amount of strength. They turned corner after corner; Nora noticed people staring, but Fado still pressed onward.

"Fado, I think we're alri-"

WHUMP!

The two girls fell to the floor upon the impact.

"Whatever are you running from, my dears?" Gandalf looked down to them with a bemused expression, a cup of Darjeeling in one hand and his morning crossword in the other. Fado threw herself at him, causing him to drop his tea. Gandalf patted the little sprite's head, shooting a questioning look at Nora. She gave a shrug.

"T-they're h-here," Fado whispered shakily. "They've c-c-come for me."

"Ah," Gandalf handed his crossword to a confused passerby. He picked up Fado and turned to Nora.

"I must take her to the infirmary wing. She is in grave condition."

"Well that's obvious, what's wrong?"

"Come, I'll explain on the way."

Nora followed Gandalf down the hallway. Fado glanced up from Gandalf's shoulder. There, down the hallway, the demon stood in the shadows, unseen by the castle staff. It had an unearthly wide smile and two wicked curled horns atop its skull. Its eyes burned as it gave her a little wave, bits of flesh curling away into clouds of smoke. It disappeared. Fado buried her head in Gandalf's robes.

...

Legolas and Gimli were trying to bond with their human companions around the fire. Unfortunately, flatulence and hair-braiding techniques didn't seem to be the best conversation starters. Out of the corner of his eye, Legolas spotted Aragorn exiting his tent and walking toward the king's quarters, a bit green in the face. He nudged Gimli.

The dwarf was so engaged in regaling the soldiers with tales of his melodious toots that he didn't notice the elf's attempt. Legolas tried again, much harder this time.

"WHAT!?" Gimli shouted unnecessarily. Legolas simply nodded in Aragorn's direction. Catching on quickly, Gimli gave the elf a smarmy wink and grin combo.

"Gotcha!" he said rather loudly. The two silently got up from the group and began to sneak away.

"Wait, where are you guys going?" one of the soldiers, who was deeply enthralled with Gimli's story, asked.

"Shh," Legolas responded.

The soldier grew quite irritable and placed his hands on his hips. "Don't shush me! Why, I oughtta…"

"Leslie, no!" The men on either side of the angered soldier restrained him the best they could.

Gimli took Legolas by the crook of the elbow and pulled him away. "Let's just go." The two best friends crouched gratuitously behind bushes as they followed Aragorn to Théoden's tent. Once he made it inside, they crept to one side of the tent to listen in.

"My Lord Elrond."

"I'm here on behalf of one whom I love."

"Not this again!" they heard Aragorn shout. "I've had too much of this for one night!"

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "I beg your pardon?"

Gimli just couldn't hold it in any longer. He let out an abrupt fart, followed by a satisfied exhale. Legolas scowled but said nothing, hoping that no one else heard it.

There was another long pause inside the tent. "My Lord Aragorn," Elrond said at length. "I was unaware that you are unwell."

"No…no!" Aragorn exclaimed. "That wasn't me, it came from outside!"

Elrond gathered his thoughts once again and continued. "The sword that was broken has been reforged, blah, blah, blah…"

Gimli eyed Legolas with a cheeky grin. Legolas shook his head and mouthed 'No!' but it was too late. Gimli broke much wind, once again disrupting the conversation inside.

"Aragorn!"

"It wasn't meee, I swear!"

"I must say, I was skeptical before about you marrying my daughter, but now..."

"Lord Elrond, please!"

"I don't know how she puts up with you!"

Gimli snickered. Legolas waved him off, waiting for the conversation to get back on track.

"As I was saying before our _interruption_," Elrond went on. "It is not only the fate of Middle Earth that rests in your hands now. Arwen is dying." There was another pause. "Her fate is bound to the Ring. If you die, her heart will shatter."

"What is there to do my Lord? We are outnumbered," Aragorn asked quietly.

"There are those in the mountain that owe allegiance to the rightful king. With this sword, you can command an army the likes of men have not seen for an age."

"They are traitors. Deserters."

"But they will fight. And you do not have a choice, Aragorn. There's Arwen to think of."

"You are right…by your leave, Lord Elrond."

There was a shuffle as the entrance to the tent shifted.

"Aragorn, wait."

"My lord?"

"Are your companions feeling alright?"

"Uh, we're all a little bit nervous about the battle, I guess…"

"When I entered camp, I could sense another fading presence similar to Arwen's. Whoever it is does not have much time."

Legolas frowned, puzzled. His eyes widened as realization dawned on him. Without another word, he ran from the tent back toward camp.

...

Nora left the infirmary wing once Fado had settled down and fallen asleep under heavy sedation. As soon as she turned a corner down another hallway, however, she found herself incredibly lost. The halls were much easier to navigate when you had someone to help guide the way. The Nord took one step down the hallway and immediately fell flat on her face.

"Mrrrrmrmhm." Nora slowly lifted herself back on her feet, blood trickling from where she had accidentally bitten her tongue. She looked down and identified the culprit: the worn down leather that binded her left boot together had come undone.

"Damn these hand-me-downs…" Nora cursed quietly as she knelt to retie the boot. Before she could finish rewrapping the leather, she heard more arrogant footsteps a few yards away. Nora looked up and rolled her eyes. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with.

"Good afternoon, Honora," Ansgar, her dreadfully boring and haughty fiancé, greeted dryly. Nora nodded in return, still feeling the warm blood pooling around her tongue.

"You've been hiding from me," he continued. "You think you and your little friend are sneaky, but we know where you two are practically at all times." Nora frowned, silently blaming Fado for the terrible hiding places. "Why do you avoid me like this?"

Nora shrugged.

"I came here for you, Nora," Ansgar said as softly as he could. "I want you to stop pretending this war means anything to you and come back to Forodwaith."

Nora frowned once more, her face turning red with anger and frustration. "This war means everything to me, Ansgar. You don't understand what I have gone through to make it this far, and I refuse to go home now and let you take over."

Ansgar grew angry. "You are young and foolish, and you will die on that battlefield if you continue with this. You have ruined my reputation in Forodwaith, but you will not take away my reputation as a war hero. Do you understand me?"

Nora had nothing more to say. She turned to leave.

"And don't think I haven't seen you fooling around with that little runt. Does he satisfy you? I'd expect everything to be small, especially his-"

She kneed Ansgar in the crotch, hocked her bloody spit in his direction, and walked down the other end of the hallway.

...

Legolas finally arrived at Azimah's tent.

"What's wrong, lad?"

The elf turned and saw Gimli with his hands proudly on his hips.

"How'd you get here so fast?" Legolas asked, astounded.

"Don't you know? Dwarves are natural sprinters!"

Legolas directed his attention back to matter at hand. There was a light wheezing sound coming from inside the tent. Legolas lightly drew back the tent flap and peered into the shadowed interior. He swallowed. Azimah lay clutching the sides of her bedroll, gasping for breath. Her eyes were shut tightly and her forehead was drenched in sweat.

Legolas dropped to her side, quietly panicking. He frantically grabbed her wrist to check her pulse. Muttering incoherently, he then moved to her forehead to feel for a fever. There was a strong hand on his shoulder.

"What's the matter with her?" Gimli asked softly.

Legolas mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I don't know!" he shouted. He put his hands on his face and knelt back. "I don't know," he said again quietly.

Gimli thought for a moment. "Maybe I'll be able to catch Lord Elrond before he departs."

Legolas simply nodded, clutching Azimah's clammy hand.

The dwarf sprinted off, leaving them alone.

Later, Gimli and Legolas stood outside the tent awaiting Elrond's diagnosis. Gimli stood with his arms crossed while Legolas paced feverishly.

"What do you think it could be?" Gimli asked tentatively, trying to make conversation.

"I don't know. Elves don't usually get sick…" Legolas said numbly. "It's usually either a mortal wound or a broken heart…"

Gimli's head perked up in realization. Elrond suddenly stepped out of the tent with a somber expression. "She is stable, but she won't last long."

"What's wrong with her?" Legolas asked impatiently.

Gimli threw up his arms in exasperation. "Come on, lad, it's not like she has any profusely bleeding wounds! There's only one other explanation!"

"But that would mean...no one close to her has died! How could that be?"

Elrond shook his head. "There have been a few cases where the apprehension of a loved one's death is enough to cause some serious damage."

"So…she broke her own heart?" Legolas managed at length.

"In a way, yes," Elrond responded.

Gimli shook his head, amazed at how dense Legolas could be sometimes.

"You guys!" Aragorn interrupted, ruining the serious scene. "I was all ready to go to the Dead Mountain and no one was there to stop me!" He waved his script around dramatically. "You missed your cue _again_!"

...

Ginny: Aggie. Aggie, wake up.

Aggie: Mrrrrmrmrmm.

Ginny: Aggie, it's noon. We need you to go to work so we have more money. I can't be the only one working!

Aggie: I got fired.

Ginny: You WHAT!


End file.
